


Ocean Views from Shiro's

by neccowafers



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, Surfer!Lance, a beach fic, a prominent dose of shallura, alternate title: hot summer hot damn, banana slugs, for the klance, pleas read i spent so much time on this love me, surfer!everyone basically, they get engaged bless, they're on the beach, you'd need to read it..
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neccowafers/pseuds/neccowafers
Summary: Keith's estranged brother has invited Keith to spend two months with him the summer after high school. There's no place like a beach town to spend the summer. Instead of endless school work and grueling applications, Keith will have to deal with fake surfing simulators, new friends, vacations within vacations, and possibly some summer romance?





	Ocean Views from Shiro's

**Day 1**

//saturday, june 3

The day after Keith’s high school graduation, he received an email from his older brother. It contained exactly three sentences stating that it was, in fact, Shiro; that things had been cleared up with their parents; and the final sentence, inviting Keith to spend the summer with him. The email ended, crudely, with an address somewhere in Southern California.

It was bullshit. A bullshit email. Keith read that trash and promptly went through the five stages of grief, lingering much longer on _anger_ and wherever the fuck you put stress-eating three jars of nutella.

Where was the sappy emotional shit? Was Shiro just going to pretend he hadn’t straight up ignored him for the last four years of his life? Shiro wouldn’t just send some _fucking email_ with no _fucking apology_ and expect it all to be cool.

The only feasible conclusion? Body-snatchers (email hackers?).

…Yeah, that’s the _bargaining._

After moping around the house for a good two days, his parents packed him a suitcase and threw him on a flight to San Diego, which really just served to fan the flames because his _parents,_ the whole reason his and his brother’s relationship was strained in the first place, got more than three sentences- they’d never let him go, otherwise.

So, uh, yeah. This morning he’d found himself at the San Diego airport coming to terms with the fact that _no,_ Shiro was not going to pick him up from the airport, and he’d have to find his way to wherever the fuck the scrawled address on his wrist was completely on his own.

He was one hundred percent broke, no money to his name, but three hours later after a phone call with his mother and a near-physical fight with a Budget car rental employee, he managed to get a rental car. Bless parents and technology.

And now, two o'clock in the afternoon, he was standing on Shiro’s front porch like he’d imagined, except it was nothing like he’d imagined. It wasn’t even really a porch, it was a condo with a cheery, very Shiro-like welcome mat. And there was sand. Everywhere. He was standing on the third floor of a condominium a good half-mile from the beach, but it still seemed like every surface he’d encountered was coated in a layer of finite grains. The area surrounding Shiro’s porch looked sweeped, at least. God, here goes nothing.

Keith knocked on the door.

He had a small panic moment after the act, and then _holy, nope._ The person who opened the door was not Shiro. They were a woman, for one, a glowy, smiley, instagram-model looking woman with bleach-blonde hair and eyes that would’ve had Keith swooning if he was straight, which- no.

At the same time he opened his mouth to say _oh, sorry, I must be in the wrong place,_ she pulled him into a tight hug, effectively shutting him up, but doing nothing to help his increasing levels of fight or flight.

“You must be Shiro’s brother! Come inside!”

The door opened wider, and hesitantly, Keith stepped in.

“Keith, is it?” The woman asked.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Who are you?”

The woman’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, which almost made Keith feel guilty, but then it was back.

“I’m Allura. Shiro’s girlfriend,” she stated. “He said you two haven’t talked much recently?”

"Understatement of the year,” he muttered, then a louder, no less bitter, “Yeah.”

“Well, you’ll have time to catch up soon,” Allura said, seemingly indifferent to his unfriendliness. “He just went out to get some groceries. You can put your stuff down in the guest bedroom, it’s the second door to your left. Do you want some tea?”

Keith exhaled, with a small _hah._ “Tea? It’s hot as balls out.”

“You get used to that too,” she laughed. “Lemonade, then? Iced Coffee?”

“Just water’s fine.”

The condo was on the third floor of the building, and it just about measured up to Keith’s mental picture. The inside was much cleaner looking than the outside, to which he was glad. The door from the outside opened up to a combination kitchen/living area, and then there was a halfway to Keith’s left with four doors, two on each side. Three were shut, and one was open, to reveal a small laundry room.

Keith made a questioning noise at the shut door next to it, to which Allura nodded. He pushed it open.

The room had been recently painted, he could tell. The dark red color was fresher than the other room’s cream and light blue walls had been. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere in the room, and the dresser drawers were pulled out, indicative of the fact that they were empty. A fan in the corner blew around much needed cold air. The window was a bit of a disappointment. When he pulled the curtains back, it was just the side of the next building over.  Yeah, this would be fine. He set down his suitcase on the bed, and the backpack over his shoulder on the chair.

Back outside in the kitchen, Allura had prepared him a really extra glass of water. The ice cubes had little mint leaves in them and she’d stuck an orange slice on the side. Keith smiled in thanks, and took the glass to the couch, which was in the same small living area. The kitchen was squished up into a corner, almost boxed in by three spotless granite countertops, open facing the door, perpendicular from the hallway. There were four stools next to the third counter, which had a closed laptop and a few succulents on top of a white cloth. The actual table was a few feet away and looked too small for more than two people.

The couch sat facing away from the kitchen, towards a large window and a balcony. The rest of the room was occupied by a TV cabinet, bookshelves, and various other plants. The view out the window wasn’t that good, but it could be worse. The whole street was condos, apartments and vacation rentals. The window out their apartment faced the street plaza, which was, if nothing else, a dynamic and more interesting view than the guest bedroom’s brick wall window.

He wondered what kind of couple his brother and Allura were. He imagined they clicked very well. Shiro had always been tidy and the slightest bit _extra_ as well, but- there was that email that forced Keith to re-evaluate what he knew about his brother. Keith had certainly changed since Shiro’d left, for better or (more likely) for worse. Keith was concerned about potentially being trapped for at least two months in this house, in a strange town, with someone who might as well be a stranger. New people, new places had never really been his scene.

The condo’s door opened. Keith braced himself, and turned around.

Yeah. It was definitely Shiro.

He looked different, older. And ripped. Man, those were some serious muscles. He wore a different prosthesis that looked sleeker, an unrecognizable brand. Oh, gosh, his hair. He had an undercut, and vaguely skunk-looking fringe, with a white streak out front. It was horrific, and something that would’ve made high-school Shiro scream in terror.

Keith stayed still. Shiro was weighed down with a large cardboard box.

“Allura, I’m back!” He called towards the bedroom, where she’d disappeared. His voice was deeper.

She appeared almost instantly, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Your brother’s here. Did you say hi?”

“What?” Shiro said, and his eyes scanned the room before settling on Keith, sitting on the couch, turned to face them. God.

“Keith! You’re here!” He excitedly spread his arms, like he was expecting a hug.

“No.” Keith said, and only felt a little guilty watching his brother’s face fall and his arms droop slightly.

It was quiet for a few heartbeats, and Keith was scared Shiro might just kick him out, call quits on the whole thing and send him, disgraced, back to their parents.

“You’re mad, aren’t you? Look-”

“Why don’t we get ice cream?” Allura suggested, placing a comforting hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “We can show Keith the boardwalk.”

Shiro still looked upset, but after a moment’s consideration, his face turned to something more accepting. “Is that alright with you?” He asked Keith.

“Fine.”

“Just let me get changed and we can go,” Shiro disappeared into another room, their bedroom. “You should change too.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Keith asked Allura hesitantly.

“You said it yourself,” she snorted, and started sorting through one of Shiro’s grocery bags. “It’s hot out. Did you bring any shorts?”

He frowned. He always wore jeans, no matter what. But- “Yeah, I think. One pair?”

“We’ll go shopping later,” Allura hummed. “Go change into those, I’ll get the sunscreen out for you.”

“Thanks.”

When he reemerged, there was no sign of either Allura or Shiro, but a pair of sunglasses and two bottles of sunscreen sat on the counter, one spray, and one lotion.

A few moments later, and a healthy amount of sunscreen lathered across Keith’s nose, cheeks, ears and forehead, his brother and his girlfriend appeared in the kitchen, looking positively beach-y, if that was a thing. Allura gave off the vibe on her own, with her good looks and chic-while-versatile outfit choice, but even Shiro looked like a surfer bro.

“Let’s get a move on. I can spray you outside!” Allura shooed him out of the kitchen. Shiro followed, respecting Keith’s space. Allura uncapped the bottle and pointed it at him.

“You don’t need to _bathe_ me in it,” Keith grumbled as she continued spraying even after his skin started feeling slimy.

 "Your skin will thank you later,” Shiro said, from where he was turned away, looking down over the railing. Keith had a feeling he was smiling. Was he remembering how they always got sunburned on vacation when they were younger? Keith hoped he was.

The boardwalk Allura spoke of was on the beach, but a good few miles down the coast, she said. They would drive up there, and- oh. Their car was nice, and all, but the backseat looked like an ocean explosion. A surfboard took up the entire trunk and backseat, and a lavish amount of sand covered the seats and mats.

When faced with Keith’s unimpressed glare, their faces changed to embarrassment.

“I can take the back,” Shiro offered. “We need to… Clean that up.”

Keith rummaged around in his pocket, tossed Allura the keys, and gestured at their apartment’s guest parking spot. “Take the rental. Who surfs?”

Allura did, but she didn’t try to elaborate, which was fine, because Keith didn’t know shit about surfing. They ended up taking the rental. No one talked until they got closer to the boardwalk, and then, it was only Allura, pointing out places and faces. He appreciated the effort, but it was wasted on him.

It got busier closer to the ocean. The actual boardwalk was a large pier  that seemed to host a summer-long fair- he couldn’t really tell, they didn’t get too close. A few small, white sailboats and larger yachts were docked next to the pier, but past there it was all beach. A paved path acted as the border between beach tables, volleyball nets, and the businesses, all lined up in a row, interrupted by parking lots every so often.  

“Tourist season’s coming early this year,” Allura commented to Shiro. “I feel bad leaving Coran in charge of the shop.”

Allura parked behind the first row of shops, in what didn’t look like a parking lot at all. It was more of an alley, large enough for maybe a truck to fit through.

“Employee parking,” Keith read the sign as he exited the car. Allura laughed.

“I work here,” she said.

“You work at a surf shop?”

“Own it. Inheritance,” she hummed. “We can stop by after ice cream.”

“I kind of assumed we were going to Altea,” Shiro said, fondly. “Are Coran’s snow cones not good enough for Keith?”

“Only the best for Keith!” Allura gasped. “We’ll take him to the Balmera.”

Keith wondered if Allura always was this friendly to people she’d known for an hour.

Awkwardly, without a word, he trailed behind her and Shiro, heading out of the alley.

A couple stores down, there was an ice cream parlor that seemed _swamped,_ despite the fact he’d seen at least four others driving in. The air conditioner was absolutely cranking, which was pleasant for Keith, who wasn’t used to the heat. Inside, the parlor was tiled in yellow and green, and rainbows spewed all over the floor thanks to a good number of hanging prisms. The shelves of the place displayed various ice cream awards and crystals, above cute, green glass tables.

"The Balmera. The best ice cream on the boardwalk,” Shiro told him, proudly. “We’ve tried them all.”

“Fantastic,” Keith said dryly.

“So, what do you want?” Allura asked him, ignoring his sour mood. “My treat.”

He was tempted to say he didn’t want any, but he did, and he doubted they would take no for an answer. “Mint chocolate chip?”

“Coming right up.” Shiro repeated Keith’s order to the cashier, a tall, muscular teenager, along with his order (rocky road) and Allura’s (mango sorbet). The menu certainly wasn’t short on options, Keith noted. The kept the basic flavors up front, but the chalkboard behind the cashier’s head displayed at least thirty more.  

“Shiro! Allura!” A voice called from behind the counter. Their heads turned to greet a girl Keith’s age who looked like she might be as tall as Shiro and able to take him in arm wrestling. Her hair was cut in a dark brown bob, and she wore large hoop earrings.

"Shay! How are you!” Allura leaned forwards to grab her hands over the counter.

“I’m doing well,” she smiled. She had a nice, quiet voice that seemed to offset what might otherwise be an intense presence. She looked right at him and asked, “Who’s this?”

“Shay, this is my brother, Keith. Keith, this is Shay,” Shiro introduced them.

“Nice to meet you, Keith,” She reached over the counter to grab one of his hands as well. Steeling himself, he let her, and- it wasn’t that bad. “How long have you been here? How long will you be staying?”

“I just got in about an hour ago,” he replied, “And the whole summer? Maybe?”

“Well, we’re glad to have you,” Shay released his hand, and the one she’d kept holding onto Allura. Their ice cream was ready, and it seemed another one of the cashiers was getting grumpy. They were holding up the line. “I’d love to stay and chat more, but I have to take over for Rax. Have a great day, you three!”

Keith took a cautious lick of his scoop. Allura was right, it was good.

“Anything else you want to see on the beach, Keith?” Allura asked.

“Not really,” Keith responded. He didn't like beaches very much, but he wasn’t going to tell Allura that, since she’d been so nice to him and seemed excited about it.

“Do you mind if we stop by my workplace?”

He didn’t. It was a few hundred feet back in the direction from which they came before Allura finally stopped in front of, yeah, a literal surf shop. It didn’t look as much like a chain store, but- nah, it still looked like a chain store. Familiar swimwear and surf brands were set up in the display case, ones even Keith knew, like billabong, speedo, whatever one had the wave and mountain logo... The display case was loaded with sunscreen, and towels, and had several signs advertising various rentals. Yeah. A surf shop. The biggest sign, the one on top, read _Altea_ in multicolored light. By the time they reached it, they were all almost done with their ice creams.

 Outside the store, they were greeted yet again, but this time by a man out front, behind a snow cone cart. He was wearing a tropical shirt, a big sun hat, and dark sunglasses. He had a big, bushy orange mustache. There were a ton of tourists crowding around the cart, so he settled with just a wave, and a quick, shouted, “Welcome to Altea, Keith!”

 It was a big store, like an all-you-could ever need beach department store. Keith eyed an entire display of sunscreens, perilously stacked on top of each other. Next to it was a wall of sunshirts, and swim trunks. There were some customers milling around, but not a lot.

 “It’s a little slow now, but things really pick up soon,” Allura told him.

 “Hunk! Lance! Come meet Keith!” Shiro called.

  _Whoa, whoa, whoa,_ Keith thought. No consulting Keith on this? Absolutely brutal.

 They were leading him again, towards the registers. They were hidden behind three towel racks, closer to the store’s second entrance, pressed up against the front window.

 Sitting behind the register and not doing anything was a slight, androgynous person with mousy hair and large, circular glasses, wearing a beige polo. They were scowling, and tapping with a vengeance on their mobile phone.

 “I’d like to speak to your manager,” a woman checking out said.

 They put the phone down. “That’s me. I’m the manager,” they said, which surprised Keith, because they looked young, younger than him.

 It was a short argument, that seemed to end with the lady buying all her merchandise at the full price, and leaving angrily immediately following the purchase.

 “Pidge! Do you have a moment?” Allura greeted.

 “For you? Always.” They straightened their glasses decisively. Their eyes flicked to him. “Wait, is this your brother? You don’t look alike.”

 “Keith, this is Pidge. They use gender-neutral pronouns.”

 “My pleasure,” they extended a hand, which Keith took. The handshake was firm.

 “Still holding that gym?” Asked Shiro.

 “No. One of the tourists keeps stealing it back. Mystics,” they said scornfully. Their eyes narrowed, and flicked towards their phone.

 “Pokemon Go?” Keith questioned. “Does anyone still play that?”

 “Yes. Me,” Pidge nodded. “The dolphin statue right outside is a gym.”

 “Hey, Shiro’s brother!” Another voice joined the conversation. A big guy wearing the same Altea Employee’s polo emerged from behind a rack of towels.

 “Uh, hi?”

 “I’m Hunk.” He smiled in a very friendly and welcoming way. “Mind if I give you a hug?”

 “Uh, no thanks. Hugs aren’t really my thing,” said Keith awkwardly, embarrassed.

 “Totally cool. If you change your mind, come and let me know.” Keith relaxed, relieved.

 “Keith, these are some of our employees- Hunk, where’s Lance?” Allura started, then paused to question Hunk.

 “He’s in the FlowRider,” Hunk answered, like that explained everything.

 “Ah,” Allura nodded. “Well, as I was saying, these are our senior employees, and they’re all very nice. Hopefully they can help you adjust to the town.”

 “Hunk is very nice. Lance and I are acquired tastes,” Pidge corrected.

Keith remained silent, wondering if Shiro had handpicked friends for him- they both seemed to be near his age, and aware of his coming. Meddling.

 “It looks like we’re blocking the register. We should head towards the back,” Hunk pointed out. He was right, all five of them were standing awkwardly parallel to the cash register, blocking the growing line of tourists.

 “Okay. Pidge, you should be good for a break. Platt can handle things up here,” Allura nodded at one of the cashiers. Shiro and Allura took the lead, and Hunk followed slightly behind, pausing to look around the racks and make the delicate displays hadn’t been disturbed by a particularly rambunctious pair of twin boys that had passed them by. Pidge fell back to walk alongside Keith. He wondered if he should say anything.

 “How old are you?” He asked, practically looking down at the top of their head.

 “Just turned sixteen in April,” they answered.

 “And you’re a senior employee? Is it even legal for you to be working?”

 “Yes! Well, now it is. I’ve been covering my older brother’s shifts for years. Shiro and Allura don’t mind.”

 “Oh. That’s cool.”

 The back of the store slowly became less densely packed with merchandise. The far back contained some clearance racks and some surfboard displays, but other than that, something big, and very loud.

 It sounded like a waterfall, except artificial and plastic. Encased in a clear box, there was a blue slope, with water rushing out of the bottom. A kid, maybe nine or ten, struggled to stand up on a small plastic board while an adult couple, presumably the parents, watched from the sidelines on a set of bleachers outside the box.

 The kid only managed to stand up for a few seconds before they went falling over. Their board, and more slowly, them, drifted to the top.

 The instructor, who Keith hadn’t noticed before, seemed to be happy with that. Some sort of buzzer went off, and he started leading the kid out.

“Hey, Pidge, what’s that?”  

“That’s the FlowRider,” they answered, smiling mischievously. “Wanna give it a go?”

 “Definitely not.”

Shiro and Allura had stopped near the bleachers. The kid was drying off, and the instructor was talking to more people clustered around the box’s entrance, with an alluring, easy finesse Keith definitely didn’t possess while talking to strangers.

 “Lance!” Pidge called. The instructor waved away the general crowds, grabbed a towel off the railing, turned around- yeah, he was pretty. It didn’t help that he was only wearing a swimsuit; He was built like a swimmer, it was a good look on him. He wasn’t terribly muscular, but looked strong, and had tanned skin. He was wearing the worst kind of smile, a confident, blindingly white grin that exuded an attitude. Keith was either going to want to kiss him or punch him or possibly both, maybe simultaneously.

 “All of my favorite people in one place!” He wandered over to them smoothly, running the towel through his hair with half an effort. He gestured from Pidge and Hunk to Shiro and Allura. “I see our parents are back.”

 Shiro and Allura let out almost a coordinated sigh, as if they got this a lot.

 “For the last time, Lance, we’re not your parents,” Shiro said, but he didn't sound too bothered over it.

 “You kind of are,” argued Hunk.

 “Don’t try to fight it,” giggled Pidge.

 “Um,” interjected Keith.

 “Oh, right! Lance, this is Keith, Shiro’s brother. He wants to try the FlowRider,” Pidge stated.

 “Wait, what?” protested Keith. “I thought we’d just established that I did not want to try the FlowRider.”

 “Overruled,” Pidge said deviously.

 “Can they do that?” Keith looked at Shiro pleadingly

 “I think you should do it,” Shiro said. “You may even find it fun.”

 “It can be a rite of passage.” Allura agreed, nodding.

 “If a fake surfing simulator is the rite of passage, I think I’m going to need to reevaluate what I’m getting into,” Keith frowned, glancing with unease at the machine.

 His statement made Lance chuckle a bit, which was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome, because he had a nice laugh. Unfortunately, no one had been moved to take Keith’s side of the argument, so he was set up against his will for a hot date with the FlowRider. _I don’t have a swimsuit,_ his last line of defense, failed miserably because Allura _did_ own the place and had promised to take him shopping. She and Hunk picked out a pair of red swim trunks, and before he knew it, he was standing in the frigid, chilly AC wearing nothing but the trunks, holding a larger version of the same plastic board, and waiting out the monotonous safety video they were required to play.

 Lance leaned up against the railing, casually comfortable in just his swimsuit. He must be used to the cold.

 “Did you get all that?” He asked when the video concluded.

 “No,” Keith answered truthfully. He hadn't been paying attention.

 “That’s okay. I know it’s hard to tear your eyes off my gorgeous physique,” Lance responded in a tone that wasn’t quite joking that Keith didn’t like, thanks to his sour mood.

 The noise of the rushing water got louder as they stepped into the box and walked up the stairs to the top of the ramp. Shiro, Allura, Pidge and Hunk were all seated in the bleachers and watching him closely.

 “Alright, so you’re gonna start on your stomach, so you can get a feel for how the water flows,” Lance told him, and demonstrated the position. “Stay away from the edges, except for when you fall off. Then you wanna go towards the edges and let the board go, it’ll meet you back at the top.”

 “Gotcha.” Keith laid down against the surface and had his position approved by Lance, but hesitated to push himself down the ramp.

 “Scared?” The other boy taunted.

 “Definitely not,” Keith growled, and off he went.

 Almost instantly, he was off the board and plunging into the cold water. It didn’t hurt, but was certainly shocking. He could hear Lance laughing, but not in a mean way. Were the others still watching?

 “Alright, that’s to be expected,” Lance reassured him. “A few more times, you’ll get the hang of it.”

 After a couple more tries, Keith had some successes and some failures under his belt. The whole balancing thing, and learning how to shift your weight to stay on the board, was something that you needed to practice a lot to get right, and he seemed to be getting the hang of it. It took his mind off everything else and mellowed him out a bit, which was nice. Anger was a bad taste in his mouth and this was a little strange, detached experience, but it wasn’t _bad,_ per say, just unusual, like one could assume fake surfing would be.

 “You’re doing great,” praised Lance. “You almost ready to try standing up?”

 Keith followed him to the bottom of the ramp, where Lance stood on the foam-padded front, above the gap where water rushed out.

 “Okay. Hold onto me at first,” Lance instructed.

 Cautiously, Keith stepped on the board, and almost immediately stumbled into Lance, but the board didn’t go flying out from under his feet, so victory? He felt dizzy, which probably had something to do with the fact that he was pressed up against Lance’s chest, his arms around his shoulders. Lance’s own hands had flown to the curve of Keith’s back. Keith hoped his face wasn’t red. Oops, he’d forgotten about the cute boy, who was still annoying but tolerable in a better mood. Shit, the gay was back. Lance eventually eased away from Keith, and moved his hands to clasp Keith’s own, making sure he was balanced the whole way.

 “So do you just do this all day?”

 “Sometimes,” Lance hummed. “We also offer real surfing lessons, which are a lot cooler, but a lot of parents won’t let their kids take them, because they’re the real babies. When I’m in the shop and not booked for a lesson, I do this.”

 “I think I’m ready to let go now.”

 “If you’re sure,” Lance’s eyes gleamed. He was just a bit taller than Keith, only about an inch or so, just so that Keith had to angle his chin up a little to meet Lance’s gaze.

 “Definitely,” he answered, and Lance let him go.

  
\---

“Shit, man. Don’t tell Lance you’re good at this game, he’ll try to make you his rival,” said Hunk.

 Keith unfortunately misjudged his avatar’s next move, and the blow cost him his remaining ten health points. The game over screen appeared.

 "Had to jinx it, didn’t you?” Keith grumbled, but he wasn’t upset. The seventh zone was hard- he’d only passed it once. The high score screen showed up next. Keith typed in his name, and saw it settle into second place, only a measly 15 points under _TheTailor._

 At the front of the store, there was an old-fashioned arcade game, one Keith recognized and was, admittedly, good at: Paladin Quest. Allura had some business to finish up before the three of them went back to the condo, Pidge was back up at the front desk, Lance was out on a real surf lesson, and Hunk was clocked out. Keith wasn’t really sure where Shiro was.

 “Do you like those kind of games?” Hunk asked.

 “I haven’t played a lot,” admitted Keith. “But I like this one a lot.”

 “Yeah, us too,” agreed Hunk. “Allura’s dad made it, actually. He brought it out here when the original video game arcade went out of business.”

 “That’s super cool. I bet you use yellow.”

 “Yeah, I do,” he laughed. “And you’re red, which I wouldn’t have guessed if I hadn’t just seen it.”

 Keith glanced at the high scores screen, where the top five were displayed. _TheTailor_ was in blue, he was in red, _Shiro_ was in black, _Princess_ in blue, and _GorgeousMan_ in yellow.

 “You pushed me off the leaderboard, dude,” Hunk sighed. “Oh well.”

 “Pidge too busy with Pokemon Go for these old games?”

 “Nah. We banned them from playing. They know all these crazy cheat codes. We had to wipe the machine one time because they hacked it so hard. Lance threw a tantrum,” Hunk recalled, fondly.

 “Who’d they play as? Red?”

 “Green, even though they hate the great outdoors. Wild, right?”

 Keith nodded, and wondered if Allura was done yet. He bid goodbye to Hunk, then made his way back to where he guessed the back room would be.

 He found a door in the back of the shop, along the same wall as the silent FlowRider. Ignoring the employees only sign, he pushed the door open. It led to another hallway, with two open entrances, one to the stock and one to an office-like area.

 Allura shut her laptop as she saw him approach. “You ready to go?”

 “Yeah. Where’s Shiro?”

 “He had an errand to run. He’ll be done at about the same time as the surf lesson, so Lance said he’d drive him home.”

 Keith made an affirmative noise and followed Allura’s lead out the back door to the same alley with the employee parking. He took shotgun, and fell silent as they pulled out of the boardwalk.

 Why had he come here? The most he had hoped for was his usual routine with a change of scenery, and then there was the small part of him that wanted to see his brother again. Now that he was here- Shiro was different, and he’d expected that, but it made him a little sad to see him seamlessly fitting into a place like this, stable and with a supportive family. Keith was intrigued by his surroundings, and he wanted to be a part of Shiro’s life again, but at the same time still felt like some kind of unusually shaped puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit right. It was a familiar feeling.

 Why had Shiro brought him here? It seemed like he was doing just fine without Keith in his life. Was it out of pity? He wondered if there were any plans past ‘hey, let’s invite Keith over’, or if they would leave him alone all summer. He supposed there was only one way to find out- wait and see.

 The condominium that was Keith’s new temporary home had a fountain outside it, next to the paved bike trail that seemed to run from here to the boardwalk. The fountain was larger, and had a strange, geometric sculpture in the center, surrounded by spouts of water.

  
“Here- the extra key to the apartment,” Allura reached to Keith’s side. She brought up his hand, unfurled his lightly clenched fingers, and pressed the silver shape into his hand. “How did that FlowRider go for you?”

 “You saw it,” grumbled Keith, reaching into his pocket for his phone. Thankfully, it was there.

 “You were getting the hang of it at the end,” Allura assured him. She lingered by his side next to the rental, facing the fountain, and didn’t seem like she was going to go inside. “Shiro’s much worse.”

 “That board’s too small for Shiro,” he grunted. Allura nodded in agreement.

 “You should take a real surfing lesson. They’re fun.”

 Despite his initial thought to turn her down, Keith conceded, “Maybe”.

 He did still have the app. Allura looked down, saw what he was doing, and smiled. He wiped to spin and collect the pokestop over the fountain, and both of them apathetically watched three red and white pokeballs appear on the screen.

 “I don’t think I can get back into this,” was Keith’s verdict, after a moment’s consideration.

 

**Day 2**

 The next morning, when Keith woke up, it was ten o’clock and the condo was silent. He lazily wandered over to the kitchen counter, where there were some eggo toaster waffles and a note, written in loopy handwriting, not Shiro’s.

  _I headed down to the shop for the day, and Shiro’s at work. Sorry about breakfast, you’ll have to get up earlier for your brother’s cooking. We’ll be back for our lunch break at around one, but if you want to explore, go right ahead. Add your favorite foods to the grocery list. xoxox, Allura. p.s check the shed._

 Keith glanced at the shopping list, and wrote down _an industrial sized bag of marshmallows, Doritos,_ and _Mountain Dew,_ only half jokingly. Toaster waffles were a perfectly fine breakfast for him, so he wasn’t too bothered. Besides, waking up to a quiet house was nice. Best of all, no one would be nagging him to study. This summer, he didn’t have any summer classes, or AP summer work, just him, mind-numbing televised entertainment, and half-ironic conspiracy forums. So maybe he was still upset with Shiro- dinner last night had been unprecedented levels of awkward- but he had to admit, it was nice to not have his parents breathing down his neck.

The toaster waffles popped, and he ate a quick breakfast. He debated getting down and dirty with his laptop and Netflix subscription, but eventually pulled on a clean set of clothes instead and set out in search of the shed, just to satisfy that curious itch.

 The condominium almost a T shape, with a sitting area, a small cafe, and the fenced in residental parking lot on one side of the property, and on the other, a deck patio facing the bike trail and the coastline, a mile or so in said direction. Keith wandered around for a while in a bid to find the sheds, until he eventually realized that the bottom floor of the condo were just storage areas for each suite. It was more of a _garage._ He found the one corresponding to Shiro and Allura’s apartment: it was locked, just like the others, but the same key to the apartment opened the shed as well.

 The inside wasn’t small enough to be used as an actual garage for a car, but it was packed with other stuff, like another surfboard, and two bicycles.

Over in the corner was another note. Keith picked it up, and meandered over to where the light was brighter so he could read it.

This one was from Shiro.

 _Keith,_ it read, _I know you’re mad at me. It’s okay, I’m mad at me too. I’m giving you as much time as you need, but I really hope you can forgive me. In the meantime, I hope you can enjoy your stay here. It’s a really great place and I think you’ll get along nicely with everyone._

 A second paragraph. _I remember how much you liked your bike. I’m a little too broke to buy you a new one, but I got you this instead. The bike path will take you all the way to the boardwalk._

 Keith eyed the brand-new looking longboard leaning against the wall. He’s never ridden a longboard before, but he’s up for the challenge.

 It wasn’t hard, which was a surprise. He didn’t know too much about longboarding- zip, zil- but standing on the board and pushing with one foot seemed to work fine, even if he felt like he was doing it wrong. The bike path was more of a footpath than anything else, and he only messed up when he ran into tourists on either side.

 He didn’t realize how far he’d gone until he started to recognize the tell-tale signs of the boardwalk. The path curved until it ran right up along the ocean, acting as a border for where the beach met the town.

Damn. Keith was thirsty and hadn’t thought this through. He hadn’t put on sunscreen either, and he could practically feel his skin peeling off already. It wasn’t like he had any other option than to go bother Allura into more favors.

Altea was swarming. The whole boardwalk was, actually. Keith wandered inside, looking for someone he recognized.

The first person he found was Lance (with a shirt on today) hunched over Paladin Quest. Keith awkwardly stood behind him.

“So it was you that almost beat my high score yesterday?” Lance said, not looking up.

 “Yep,” said Keith. “I’ll get you next time, I was just warming up.”

 “I’d like to see you try,” Lance countered, then promptly died in the fifth zone, which didn’t even put a new score on the leaderboard. “Damn.”

 “You lost.”

 “You don’t say-” Lance looked up. “Oh, you don’t look so hot. And that goes to say you look really hot. Seriously, you’re sweating buckets.”

 “I noticed. Is Allura around?”

 “She’s in some meeting, sorry,” was the response. “Dude, do you need water or sunscreen or something? I can help you out, I’m on my lunch break.”

“Yeah, uh, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Wait here, I’ll grab my bag and we can go outside. It’s too crowded in here.”

 Keith lingered. Lance returned in a quick manner, clutching a navy blue knapsack.

 “¡Vámonos!” He said, and sprinted out the front door, hardly waiting for Keith to catch up.

 Thankfully, he stopped right outside of the store. The dolphin statue provided ample shade, where Lance lingered. There were actually two dolphins, Keith noticed doing some sort of dance around each other.

 “Heads up,” he said, and tossed a yellow canister in Keith’s direction. His catch was graceless, but the sunscreen wasn’t dropped. He mumbled a thanks.

 “You’re gonna be burned,” Lance hummed.

 “Yeah.”

 “I’ll get your back. I’ve got some water, too.”

The canister was returned to Lance after a fair amount of it was sprayed on Keith’s exposed skin with only slightly less vigour than the application from Allura the previous day. It stung all over, and wasn’t anything like a serious pain, but held up to be an uncomfortable sensation. Not anything like the pain you’re gonna be feeling as your skin peels off in a few days, Keith reminded himself.

Lance covered his back, then handed Keith a stick for his face and a half-filled water-bottle, which he _drained_ before even taking a second glance at the new sunscreen in his hand. It was good- great- but still didn’t fully quench his thirst.

“Thirsty,” Lance comments. “We can get you more, the drugstore probably won’t be as crowded.”

“Oh- Okay,” Keith went along.

 “You longboarded all the way down here?” He was asked as they were walking down the line of shops.

 “Didn’t mean to.”

 “Eh, it’s not that far. Next time you might want to prepare yourself a little bit better, though.”

 “I didn’t mean to,” Keith repeated. “I thought I was gonna fall off within the first ten feet.”

 “Never ridden before?”

 “Nope.”

 Lance made an affirmative noise. “Did you just… Decide to buy a longboard?”

 “Shiro got it for me.”

 “Ah,” he nodded. “That’s nice of him.”

Keith didn’t answer. The drugstore was ahead of them, sitting on a corner, next to another ice cream shop that seemed much busier. It was a smaller shop, looking much less dignified and pulled-together than a typical walgreens or CVS. It looked old-fashioned, with penny candy behind the counter and bottled soda in a clunky refrigerator, but it had a certain thing about it that made Keith feel like if he tried he could haggle for some actual drugs. He normally had a pretty good intuition when it came to those sorts of things- not that it was a practiced skill, of course. The cashier, the only employee in the shop, was a teenager who exuded disgust for her current situation, which Keith imagined was partly genuine and partly a result of the emo phase- not that he knew about that, either. She had pink hair on the one not shaved side of her head, and a fair amount of spiky jewelry around her neck and wrists. There probably weren’t any drugs to barter out of this particular employee, but the verdict was still out for any others.

 Lance grabbed two water bottles out of the fridge, and frowned down at the old freezer next to it. “What kind of ice cream do you want?”

 “You don’t have to buy me ice cream.”

 “Too bad, I’m going to,” he hummed. “Is a drumstick okay?”

 “It’s fine,” Keith mumbled softly, to which Lance grabbed two of them, and placed it on the counter alongside the two water bottles.

 “Coran was absolutely livid when they started hiring teenagers,” Lance told him after he paid, as they walked out. “You could always bargain with the owners for a better price, or a weirder one? No money on you, no problem, they’ll take three seashells and an expired Target coupon. The new workers won’t go for that.”

Keith was too busy drinking to respond. The water was hardly even cold, which was disappointing, but it was still water. Lance handed him the ice cream when he was done.

 “If you’re still thirsty, you can have my water too,” he added.

 “You didn’t have to buy me this,” Keith said purposefully. The help was understandable- he was pitiful, sunburned and dehydrated on a hot, ninety-five degree summer day, but Lance was doing extra and Keith didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Dude, it’s seriously okay. If you’re getting all worked up about it you can just pay me back later.”

“I would if I could. I’m broke,” Keith said truthfully. He didn’t think he’d seen a dollar truly to his own name since he quit his last job.

“No big deal. Pidge probably owes me a small fortune in ice cream money.”

Keith walked slower. “You don’t have to try to be friends with me.”

Lance seemed a bit confused when he turned around, and slowed to a stop. They were by that dolphin statue again. “Okay, I’m confused. Does that go to say you don’t want to be friends with _me_ and you’re letting me down nicely, or do you feel like I’m in some way obligated to be friends with you?”

“Shiro,” said Keith, not quite sure how to vocalize what he was thinking, “told you all to be nice to me? You all knew who I was.”

“Are you not used to people being nice to you?” Lance’s expression turns quizzical, but it doesn’t seem like he actually expects an answer. “And, uh, yeah? We know who you are because Shiro talks about you all the time.”

“He does?”

“Of course! He’s been telling stories about you guys for years. We’re all just happy to meet you in person.”

Keith must look incredulous, because after a hot second of silence, Lance continues with, “It surprises you that your brother talks about you?”

“Considering he’s hasn’t even spoken to me for four years? Yes?” The intended bitterness was lost in transition, and instead his voice came out meek and confused.

“Okay,” Lance said, drawling out the first syllable. “You guys probably have some talking to do. But I promise Shiro didn’t order us to be friends with you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m making that choice on my own. Give me a chance?”

“...I’ll think about it,” Keith eventually said.

“Oh, you’re playing hard to get,” commented Lance. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll win you over with my charms eventually.”

Keith made a skeptical noise, which earned him a playful whack to the back of his head.

“Look, it’s almost Allura’s lunch break. You should try to catch up with her and get out of the sun, yeah, Keithy?”

“Probably. Also, don’t call me Keithy”

“If you insist,” said Lance, then murmured under his breath, “Keithy.”

“I heard that. Anything else to say before I leave you?”

“Get a haircut- Oh, shit, my break’s over, gotta blast,” he checked his watch midstatement, and apparently not happy with the time, Lance broke out in a dead sprint across the crowded path.

“Wait, what’s wrong with my hair?” Keith yelled.

Lance looked over his shoulder, while perilously still dodging tourists. “It’s a mullet! It’s ugly!”

As Keith reached up to touch the ends of his hair, Lance tripped over the curb, and fell right into a poor, undeserving bush framing Altea’s storefront.

“Goodness, boy, be careful!” said Coran from where he was drizzling a snowcone. No one else even bothered to look up.

“That’s what you get for calling my hair ugly!” Keith called out, then started walking towards where he figured Allura’s car would be.

Later, Allura and Shiro returned from a grocery shopping trip that Keith had politely opted out of. He was sitting on the couch when they came in, eyes fixed on the television, aware but not acknowledging of their presence.

Shiro snuck up behind him and dropped a grocery bag onto his lap, containing harvest cheddar SunChips and a bottle of sprite.

“We modified your request a little,” he said.

 

**Day 6**

Keith didn’t do anything the following day, or the day after that. His lifestyle wasn’t about to be changed that easily, and went left to his own devices, he was someone very comfortable with his bed and laptop. Not having his parents around to micromanage him was both good and bad. Allura and Shiro were seemingly disapproving, and, well, Keith didn’t blame them, he was disappointed in himself for spending forty-eight straight hours indoors. However, neither of them had yet to force any outdoor time or human interaction upon him. Shiro and Keith had been polite but distant, and Allura probably didn’t know where her boundaries were.

After three full days of this, though, it seemed that Allura decided to finally intervene. On the dawn of Keith’s fifth day, Allura showed up in Keith’s room in the early hours of the morning. She was cleaned up in her Altea uniform, on her way to work.

“So, you planning on going out today?” She asked, leaning on his doorframe.

Keith rubbed his eyes. He had pulled a very unnecessary all-nighter, watching some show an online buddy had recommended, and it hadn’t been terrific by any means, but he still had watched an entire season, which baffled and upset him.

“Uh,” he said after an embarrassing moment of silence, “probably not.”

“Well,” Allura suggested, “I think you should. I left a list of possibilities on the kitchen counter.”

“Interesting,” said Keith dryly. “I’ll take a look.”

“Lance says you’re broke.”

“Wow, Lance. Thanks for ratting me out.”

“If you don’t do something today, I’ll make you work for me,” Allura warned, and then she left.

Keith squinted at his screen, open to an online forum of his. He had kind of lost track of what the topic of discussion was supposed to be or how it had devolved into the horrific scene in front of him. One sentence in particular stood out: **Bigfoot and Jesus are dating I swear** , which was wild, because he couldn’t figure out whether or not the OP was serious. It was sometimes hard to tell with things like these.

That was… Enough of that.

 -----

He meant to look at Allura’s list and put himself out in the world (if only for a brief and brother’s-girlfriend-appeasing amount of time), he really did. In the end, that hadn’t happened, and what had happened was a very long nap and the demolition of an entire bag of chocolate pretzels- he was certain his housemates had already noticed the large dent Keith had made in the apartment’s amount of snack food. In his sleepless haze, the conversation with Allura had gone in one ear and out the other, but it turned out she was actually not fucking around with her threats, which is how he found himself at Altea surf shop at seven a.m, wearing the employee uniform and sitting in the backroom while Allura went over all that he would need to know. Unfortunately, just because he’d gotten a good amount of sleep didn’t mean he wasn’t tired, and Allura’s information kept going in one ear, out the other.. Actually remembering things- any time now would be great.

“You’ve done retail work before?” Allura snapped him out of his daze.

He answered that yes, he had, and solemnly reflected on the terrible experience it had been. Obviously working at a surf shop wasn’t going to be anything like his thrift store strip mall job the summer after junior year, but it would still involve lots of people, and people weren’t really Keith’s specialty. He just didn’t have that kind of charisma; His unapproachability and resting bitch face (or maybe lack of a poker face?) didn’t help at all. However, he did bring this upon himself, so he was gonna do it to the best of his abilities. And also, money. Money was always good.

In the end, he was assigned to work register, which was the only thing he was able to do, since he didn’t have any special skills like Lance or a knowledge of where things in the shop were like Hunk, yet.

“How long’s your shift?” Pidge asked. Keith was under their supervision, along with the two other cashiers. Things were still slow in the mornings, so he’d only had to ring up a few items from the sporadic early riser.

“Only until lunch,” he said. “Allura thought it was mean to keep me here longer on my first day.”

“Since she’s technically forcing you to work here?”

“I don’t really mind it. She wouldn’t’ve made me if I really didn’t want to,” corrected Keith.

“I don’t know about that.”

“I guess I don’t either. Who’s to know what she would’ve done. Well, maybe you’re to know. I’m not to know.”

“Well, you’re here now, I guess. We were considering placing bets on what’d happened to you, you’d been gone so long,” Pidge yawned.

“Um, okay.”

Keith paused his conversation to help check out a couple with two teenage daughters. “Pidge, what do you do for wetsuit rentals?”

They moved in and tapped a few buttons on the display, demonstrating the transaction. “It’s kind of confusing that they do these up here instead of back with the surfboard rentals,” they commented, then to the family: “You guys heading out to surf?”

The family nodded in an affirmative manner, and after they’d left, Pidge told Keith that it was best to surf in the morning, because come mid-day there’d enough people crowding in the waters that it would be hardly safe for surfers.

“Lance gets up really early every day to surf before he has to come here and take out a lesson group or something. Sometimes Allura or Hunk go with him, but Allura likes to eat breakfast with Shiro and Hunk’s not really an early riser,” they added.

Keith hummed, unsure what the correct response was. He could talk about himself, but nothing implied Pidge wanted to hear about his (unhealthy) sleep patterns. Truth was, Keith didn’t mind early mornings at all, and liked them quite a bit on the rare days he got enough sleep, but usually he wasn’t able to sleep until past midnight, which didn’t make those mornings as fun as they could be if he wasn’t sleep deprived.

He decided to comment anyway and he and Pidge bonded over the woes of persistent insomnia.

His shift ended with Pidge demanding his phone number.

“I know you have a phone,” they said. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Fight me for it,” Keith said. Hunk, off to the side, made an amused noise that had Keith confused until Pidge made a wild attempt to grab his waist and throw him off balance. It worked, he took a step backwards, but it wasn’t much more effective than that, especially since Pidge couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. But hey, they took Keith by surprise. He hadn’t been expecting a literal fight.

After a few minutes of scuffling, Pidge ‘won’. They were vicious, which somehow didn’t surprise Keith- it was always the small ones. It was obviously a friendly fight, and Keith felt conflicted about hitting them, so it was an easy victory for the smaller person. Victory, of course, meant the confiscation of Keith’s phone, which had already been in his hand, held above his head and far out of Pidge’s reach, but they weren’t above using him as a jungle gym.

He wasn’t about to just give Pidge his password, so he recited his number out loud while they held the device hostage. It was returned just as Allura appeared in the doorway of the break room.

 (6:46 p.m)

Pidge: hey losers

Keith: What’s this?

Pidge: a group chat

Pidge: don’t be rude assholes say something so keith has your numbers

(Unknown number): Hunk :] Hi Keith!

(Unknown number): its me… the dreamiest man u have ever see, hold the applause

Keith: Lance??

(Unknown number): aw i’m the dreamiest man u’ve ever seen!?

Pidge: no he knows it’s you because you’re the only one who’d say stupid shit like that

Hunk: Also maybe process of elimination.

Lance:  ...at least i don’t have a mullet

Keith: ?

Keith: no correlation?

 

**Day 9**

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” said Keith.

Allura smiled sadistically as she loaded even more crap into Keith’s tote bag.

“A beach day will be good for you.”

“I hate the beach. Also, I just got rid of my last sunburn,” Keith argued.

“Don’t be a loser. Live a little,” Allura handed him a lunch box. “Besides, you’re making friends.”

“...Am not?” countered Keith weakly. Even he was unsure why he said it- quite possibly his contrarian nature.

“Aw, yes you are. They invited you to the beach. Remember to reapply sunscreen every hour or so. When you four are done, just come to Altea,” Allura reminded him. “And there’s Lance.”

An old, blue truck rolled up to the condo’s parking lot. Hunk waved at him from out the passenger window. Keith got in the back with Pidge, behind shotgun, which wasn’t an easily accomplished feat, thanks to the various bags he had on his back.

“Lemme help you with that,” Hunk said, and grabbed the cooler Keith was carrying to put it at his feet. It seemed like the four of them were each carrying a bag or two, and the truck’s cabin was small.

“Sorry it’s so squished in here,” said Pidge, to which Lance turned around indignantly.

“What have I told you about being mean to Blue?” He said, and put a reassuring hand on the dashboard. “Blue, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that an ugly ass bitch like this would even say that, oh my god.”

“Please never do that again,” Pidge raised their eyebrows.

“Um,” said Keith, finally finding the seatbelt, “You named your car?”

“Of course,” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you?”

“Dude, not everyone names their car,” Hunk said matter-of-factly.

“I do,” Keith interjected, which recaught everyone’s attention. “Well, my motorcycle.”

“You have a motorcycle? That’s so cool,” said Lance as he returned to a safe driving position and shifted to drive. “What’d you name her?”

“Red,” Keith admitted, somewhat sheepishly now that he knew Lance’s car was called Blue.  

“That’s insane,” Pidge said. “What a weird coincidence. Lance, buddy, I think you found your soulmate.”

They all laughed lightheartedly, and Keith felt his face heat up, for some reason. His own body was a traitor, goddamnit.

Lance pulled off onto a road Keith didn’t recognize.

“We’re going to a beach a little off the main one, it’s less crowded,” explained Pidge. They had their phone out, screen tilted slightly away from Keith. Hunk and Lance were singing along to the radio, some pop song Keith had never heard before.

The truck’s cabin was humid, and it was getting worse. The drive to the boardwalk (general boardwalk area?) had never felt longer than it felt in the heat. It was hot outside, but it shouldn’t be hot inside, damnit. Had Lance ever heard of AC?

“It’s hot in here,” Keith said pointedly, which was passive-aggressive for some explicit version of the stated. He thought the phrase ‘up Satan’s asshole’ was nice and a good descriptor of the car’s current temperature.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you want me to leave?” Lance responded, and it took Keith a moment, and yeah okay the guy’s lines weren’t always great but they did have good delivery, he’d give him that.

He knew there was a witty, Pidge-high-five-deserving response somewhere in there (yesbutbecauseyou’re annoying not hot at all?)

Aw, forget it, wasted chance. “Sorry, the air doesn’t work,” Lance followed up. “Could fix the AC, could pay for a day of college.”

“That sounds like it could be a metaphor.”

"Hunk, what the hell,” said Pidge, ever averse to metaphors.

Blue came to a stop in a small parking lot, mostly occupied. Keith couldn’t see a beach, but he could see the ocean, and if he looked to his right, the direction from which they came, he could see the edge of the boardwalk, identifiable by the tall tips of the ferris wheel. It wasn’t far away at all. The main beach probably didn’t end, but he bet they were far enough away that few tourists ventured all the way down.

Keith exited the vehicle as soon as he could, and God, it was hot out here too, but not nearly as stifling. The other three unloaded as well, stopping to grab bags and double check belongings. As soon as everything was loaded up into their arms (“One trip, guys! Make like you’re bringing in groceries!” Lance had said), Keith made a few observations.

One, he was apparently bringing everyone’s lunch, which would explain why Allura had packed so much goddamn food. At least, he couldn’t see anyone else carrying any sort of cooler. Two, the back of the trunk contained a couple of boogie boards, all carried by Lance, which Keith hadn’t noticed before.

In all, they seemed to be carrying an about equal amount of stuff. Pidge took Keith’s third bag- the one containing the towels- along with her own single tote bag, so that lightened Keith’s load to the sunscreen/change of clothes/first aid/shit bag and the freakishly large cooler.

Lance led the way to the edge of the bluff, where there was a set of worn wooden stairs that looked old but not yet dangerous, leading down to the beach beneath the small hill. The others followed and inched down.

The beach at the bottom was, actually, part of the main beach. A lifeguard stand stood amongst a scattering of beach umbrellas, labeled with the town’s guard’s emblem. The lifeguard at the top, a girl, blue-eyed, hair dyed, waved as they passed by. Lance enthusiastically smiled back, hands occupied, before dumping the boards in an open stretch of sand deemed suitable for setting up.

Hunk spread out a large orange picnic blanket and dropped his bag on one corner. Pidge did the same with another, and Keith followed suit with his bag and the cooler so all four corners were weighed down.

“Shoes off! No sand on the blanket,” Hunk snapped as Pidge made to step on the blanket still wearing her sandals. They continued work to set the umbrella up and sunscreen. Lance’s only job was apparently sticking the boogie boards in the sand so they stood up, then going over to chat with the lifeguard.

Keith flopped back on the blanket. Those UV rays could suck his dick- SPF 30, bitches. His shit bag had contained an easily accessible pair of sunglasses, and the sand was nice and soft beneath the blanket. Yep, nap time.

Lance came running onto the blanket unceremoniously, causing Hunk to shriek out loud. Keith flinched but didn’t sit up.  “Lance! You know the rule about sand on the blanket!”

“Sorry!” Lance kicked off his sandals. “Just catchin’ up with my girl Plaxum.”

“Huh. Are you two back together? Rekindling middle school romances?” Pidge said, voicing coming from somewhere on Keith’s right.

“No!”

“Aw, shame, Plaxum’s way better than Nyma,” Hunk pitched in from where he was presumably still sweeping sand granules off his blanket.

“Hunk, my bro. I’m not dating Nyma either!” Keith could practically hear Lance’s dramatic gestures.

He begun to tune their conversation out as it delved further into an analysis of Lance’s romantic ventures. Ah, the pretty ones were always straight.

“Keith!”

Lance was shaking his shoulder. He couldn’t have been asleep for long, he probably just dozed off, fuck, Lance, why?

“You going to get in the water with me?” Keith cracked his eyes open at the sound of Lance’s voice.

“Go get Hunk’r Pidge to go with you,” He protested.

Lance removed his sunglasses from his face, nearly blinding him. The sun, half obscured by the beach umbrella, made him see white spots for a painful moment, but it had just about cleared by the time he was done screeching in Lance’s direction. Low-quality colors sharpened back into Lance’s face, which had sculpted itself into a pitiful, mock-weepy sad face. “Please?”

Keith grumbled and sat up. “Give me those back and I’ll go.”

“Yes!” Lance fell back into the sand theatrically, and Keith tucked his sunglasses back into the bag, sighing.

He regretted giving in as soon as the first wave washed up around his ankles, cold, foamy and suspicious. Lance followed a couple seconds later, carrying both boards and approaching the ocean much less apprehensively, but at the same pace as Keith, smiling the whole while.

Once Keith had reached waist depth and had ducked under the water to reduce the chill, Lance passed him a board to velcro onto his wrist. It turned out that the waves were a lot harder to get over with the boogie board, and the further out they got, the larger they got. Going back in was the fun part, and it was just like the FlowRider but better. They stayed like that, paddling out then washing back in with the waves, a bit staggered because Keith didn’t suck but Lance had the practiced skill of catching a wave the first time around, the way you had to lean into it at just the right time.

Keith didn’t love the ocean as fiercely as Lance did, like he could _tell_ Lance did, but, uh, he supposed it wasn’t that bad. It had just never been his thing and the annual family vacations to Florida had been just dry since Shiro left, but this was different. A whole different ocean, different waves, Keith’s _friends,_ everything felt just a bit lighter. It wasn’t cold, it was perfect, a bit chilly near the toes when they were out and hanging off the boards, a bit too warm when they washed up on the heated sand and chose to just sit there. The heat quickly stole away the moisture off his exposed skin, warming his back except for the space between his shoulderblades where water dripping off his hair ran down, his hair filled with sand from a stray wave that pummeled him when he was waist deep, but hey, it was the beach, and you didn’t really have a good time if there wasn’t sand everywhere. So maybe Lance was right, and his hair was getting a little long, and if it crawled down his neck faster than it framed his face- still didn’t make it a mullet.

The sounds were nice- the waves crashing, seagulls overhead, Pidge’s screaming as Lance threatened to knock down their and Hunk’s impressive, geometric sandcastle- yep, nice.

 ----

Turned out it was Shiro and Allura’s date night- when the trio + Keith were done at the beach after four hours of sun, waves, and lunches that tasted like sand, they kicked over to Altea as promised to take the later shift. Allura took Keith back to the condo instead, acknowledging that this day was a lot on Keith’s introversion- and he had even agreed to go out again for ice cream later that night. Hunk had sworn the sunsets were gorgeous and acted like it was blasphemy that Keith had never seen one. Pidge, after he’d declined, elbowed him in the side and proclaimed that they needed his help. You know what? Fine. He just needed a break, and Allura was glad to help him out.

Around six Shiro had gotten back from work, and he and Keith danced around each other like they always did when they were alone, waiting for Allura. Keith sat at the table, on his phone, clicking through various apps on his phone. Shiro was puttering around in his bedroom, and Keith could hear it- sound travelled in the condo whether they wanted it to or not. Eventually he emerged.

“Shiro?”

Shiro looked surprised that Keith was talking to him. “Yeah?”

“What do you even do for work?”

Shiro blinked. “I’m a police officer.”

“Cool,” said Keith, then turned around again. He could feel the eyes on his back, and it seemed like he was gonna say something and they might finally have their long-overdue talk but then Allura came back and the moment was lost.

Keith realized it was their third date night of the week. Were people in relationships always this intense?

“Sorry, Keith,” Allura said. “We’re heading to a restaurant about thirty minutes out of town. You can use your longboard or one of our bikes to get down to the boardwalk if you’re still planning to hang out with your friends.”

“Great,” Keith agreed, even if it wasn’t ideal. He wished he had his motorcycle with him- since the rental had been returned last week, their household only had one car. Keith didn’t think he’d driven since coming here, which was unfortunate, because it was one of his favorite things to do. “Have fun on your date.”

He took the longboard later that evening. Taking one of the bikes was tempting, but Keith didn’t know their lock combinations, and he didn’t want to be responsible for a stolen bike.

Pidge was waiting right outside the Balmera, as promised. Keith was actually a few minutes late, red-faced with his longboard tucked under his arm, having meandered around the boardwalk searching for the ice cream store with an increasing urgency as the clock ticked closer to their designated meeting time. His sense of direction was a little skewed, especially as the sun started to go down, casting new shadows over the beach.

“Where’s everyone else?” Keith asked.

“Lance is closing today at Altea, he should be here soon. And Hunk’s inside,” they gestured over their shoulder into the parlor, “keeping Shay company. He’s got a bit of a crush on her.”

Through the tinted glass, and aided by the yellow glow of the shop, Keith could see silhouettes of Hunk and the girl behind the counter, one he vaguely remembered from his first day here. “Cute.”

“To some extent,” Pidge shrugged. “Personally, I don’t see the appeal.”

“Aro-ace?” 

“Yeah!”  

“Nice. I’m gay as fuck."

Inside the store, Hunk made some sort of arm gesture that looked a lot like flailing from where Keith was standing, and Pidge’s lips curled up into a fragmented smile. “Should we go in before he embarrasses himself?”

“It might be too late.”

“Aw, at least we know Shay won’t care.”

“Get you a girl like that."

“Well, a dude. Since you’re gay,” Pidge winked.

“Point.”

Lance showed up a few minutes later, and the four of them placed their orders. Hunk was hesitant to leave the shop and Shay’s presence. Pidge had to pull him out of the shop- well, he let Pidge pull him out of the shop- and out towards the nearly-empty main beach.

“If you wanted to hang out, you should’ve gotten her number,” Lance pointed out from where he walked next to Keith, a few paces behind the others. “She was totally into you.”

Hunk’s blush grew to something akin to the color of the sky, so the teasing let up.

“Pretty, right?” Lance gestured out to the beach, wearing a warm smile.

“It’s really pretty.”

“We’re here on business, not to appreciate the sunset!” Pidge proclaimed. The group stopped where the edge of the main path leading down to the beach met the sand, a small gazebo area that was surprisingly clean for a public beach and nearly empty of people. Lance kicked off his flip-flops and buried his feet into the sand, Keith, who was wearing sneakers, did not.

“What’s the business?” Keith asked.

“Well, it _should_ be my birthday, given how it’s coming up soon-“

“A month and a half away, Lance.” Hunk interjected.

“-But I guess it’s not because I’m here. That’s a shitty way to plan a surprise party, guys.”

“It’s serious,” said Pidge.

“How come you’re the only one who knows about it, then?” Lance argued.

“Chill, I’m about to tell you guys now.”

“Spill it, then!”

“Allura’s gonna propose.”

Dead silence.

One second, two.

“Wait, really?”

“No way!”

“Huh?”

“So you know how they’re anniversary’s coming up soon?” Pidge’s question was met with two affirmative nods from Lance and Hunk, and one meek “No?” from Keith. Well, that would explain all the date nights.

“Oh. Well, it is. Three years now.”

“I remember when they got together,” Lance reminisced. Hunk placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Ask him to tell you the story sometime. It’s kind of funny.”

“I can’t believe my brother’s getting married,” said Keith, dazed.

“He still has to say yes,” Pidge reminded them. “And Allura wants our help with the proposal.”

“What could Allura possibly need our help with?” Questioned Lance.

“Shiro’s gonna take her out for their dinner, and then she’s gonna propose once they get back. Actually, I don’t have a lot of details, but I think she wants us to help clean up the apartment and make it all romantic?”

“Then scram so they can have some hot sex.”

“Lance!”

“What? You know it’s true!”

“I don’t want to think about my brother having sex,” Keith stuck out his tongue.

“Yeah, Lance! Don’t do this to Keith!”

“Thank you, Hunk.”

Pidge cleared their throat. “So is everyone in?”

One by one, they each nodded.

“I-“ Keith said, then stopped. “Yeah.”

He may not have everything worked out between him and his brother, but this was good. He wanted Shiro to be happy.

“What do we need to do?”

Pidge pulled a folded piece of paper out of their pocket, and unfolded it, to reveal bullet points scrawled in the handwriting Keith had come to recognize, and explained what Allura had in mind, or what little she’d told Pidge. The list provided was hastily scribbled on the back of a receipt, and its content was vague and growing harder to read as the sky grew darker.

“I have no idea what this says,” admitted Lance, who was shining his phone’s flashlight down on the list.

“I think we should finish this later,” Hunk suggested. “We all have shifts tomorrow, right? We can corner Allura at the shop. Wouldn’t it be better hear it from her, anyway?”

“He’s right.” Lance said. “The boardwalk at night is a little creepy. Also, my mama’s going to whoop my ass if I stay out much longer.”

“Baby Lance still has a curfew,” Pidge teased.

“Hey! Mama knows best!”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Hunk said, and raised his arms above his head to stretch.

“Listen up, Hunk, you better not spill about this,” warned Pidge.

“Yeah, buddy. I love you, but you’re shit at keeping secrets,” Lance agreed.

“You got me,” Hunk raised his hands in defeat. “I’d feel terrible if I spilled the beans on this one anyway. Y’know, maybe I’ll just avoid Shiro for the next week.”

“And the mice,” added Pidge, referring to four of Altea’s employees who were close friends with Allura, and known for being quite the gossips. Keith wasn’t sure who had started calling them ‘the mice’ or why, and he wasn't particularly inclined to ask.

“Alright. Goodnight, guys.” Hunk said, and started walking up the path, followed closely by Pidge.

Keith put his longboard down and rolled it back and forth on the ground, taking in his darkened surroundings. It had gotten dark quickly, and there were fewer streetlights than Keith would’ve thought. Hey, his fault not not thinking ahead.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” Lance said.

“I don’t know, I don’t want you to get your ass beat for missing curfew.”

“Don’t sweat it. Friends don’t let friends longboard home in the dark.”

“Alright.”

 

**Day 12**

“Romantic,” Allura sighed, looking out the shop’s front window. The day was overcast and cloudy, and the wind had picked up. Sand and fronds blew over the nearly-deserted sidewalks. Coran’s snow-cone cart, a familiar fixture outside Altea, was nowhere to be seen.

Allura and Shiro’s anniversary had come quickly. Apparently the proposal was a bit of a last minute idea, but it was to be surprisingly simple- she’d do it on the beach, and Hunk would take pictures. According to Allura, a good camera and an A in high school photography 1 were all a photographer needed, both qualifications Hunk, man of many talents, boasted. She said she was willing to sacrifice photo quality for a more personal atmosphere, surrounded only by people she knew and trusted.

Afterwards they’d go back to the apartment, which Lance and Keith were tasked with cleaning and decorating during Shiro and Allura’s date, to have some cake. (“Hot sex?” Lance had asked, a question that was met with exasperated groans from everyone else and a quiet, considering, “I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” from Allura. Keith was going to spend the night at Pidge’s.)

It was a lot to do in just a few days, but with the five of them and Coran, who was eager to help in any way he could, it was accomplished and now they just had to deal with Allura, who was anxious about the whole affair but understandably so and all they could do was reassure her whenever the nervousness surfaced.

No one was any less than 100% supportive- helping Allura had taken a large chunk out of their days, but everyone met the task with enthusiasm, even Pidge, who had initially suggested something a little more extreme, was Allura sure that she didn’t want them to rig up a fireworks display? The question had led them into an argument over California’s firework laws, a google search, and a consensus that it would probably be illegal but it didn't matter anyway because Allura didn’t want fireworks, _Pidge._

The actual day’s weather was a bit disappointing, and it was getting to their boss.

“It’s supposed to clear up later, don’t worry,” Hunk said reassuringly from where he folded a messed up display of beach souvenir t-shirts.

Allura’s face became passive and she meandered towards the register. Keith stood, arms crossed and leaning back against the wall next to Paladin Quest, and as soon as she was out of earshot asked, “It is?”

“Who knows?” Hunk shrugged.

“Did you get the cake made?” Lance burst from a rack of clothes, startling both of them.

“Yep. You and Keith got the flowers from that place Coran recommended?”

“Arus Florist?” Keith said, remembering the trip to the little shop off the boardwalk. “Yeah.”

“I think we’ve got everything, or at least, everything important.”

“I think it’s nice that Allura trusts us with this,” Lance said, gazing out the window. Hunk and Keith agreed.

The shift passed quickly, and before Keith knew it it was lunch break, then five o'clock, and he was heading home. He stayed out of the way, to act normally, until Shiro and Allura had left. Shortly after Keith sent out the text that they’d left, Lance’s blue pickup truck rolled into the parking lot, and Keith left the apartment to help them carry up the stuff.

The apartment was tidy and neat, but Allura wanted it perfect- no sand or dirt anywhere, thank you very much. Hunk got an out on cleaning since he’d moved into the kitchen to set up his cake and organize the other snack bowls. Keith wasn’t super fond of cleaning, but he buckled up and got it done, because that’s what needed to happen. Even Lance held off on his normal boisterous behaviour and distraction to get to it. It wasn’t like they had to rush, but it was best to move swiftly.

Allura had ordered a ton of flowers, and had left Keith a drawing of the floor plan indicating where she wanted them.

 “Too many flowers?” Pidge asked, standing in the threshold of the front door.

“It’s possible,” Lance said, consideringly. “It’s not the best for interior decorating, but it certainly is romantic.”

“Shiro’s gonna cry,” Keith scoffed.

Forty minutes before Allura’s communicated ETA, they drove to the beach spot she’d picked out.

“It’s gonna rain, isn’t it?” Lance squinted and looked up at the sky, to the black thunderheads gathering quickly over their heads. The wind hadn’t gone down at all, and the ocean was choppy and wild.  

“Yes! Rain!” said Pidge energetically.

“Rain is good, but today, of all days?” Hunk sighed. “Maybe we should text her and ask if she really wants to do it here. She could always just pop the question back at the apartment, man.”

“Getting… Proposed to… At your house?” Lance screwed up his face in a mixture of confusion and disgust, and apparently Allura shared the sentiment and had gotten over her earlier hesitance, because she was dead set on proposing and doing it _right here,_ so they proceeded to clean up the beach all they could, throwing aside driftwood and raking over the surface. The tide was low, and left a good, clean expanse. Hunk moved around, looking for good camera angles. The spot Allura had chosen wasn’t any good for swimming, but was gonna look good in a picture for sure, and provided many places for Hunk, Keith, Lance and Pidge to conceal themselves.

“You ready?” Pidge called when it was about time. Keith and Lance ducked down to hide themselves on one side of the beach, whilst Pidge and Hunk took the other. Keith and Lance’s side had a good view of the road, and when Shiro and Allura’s car came driving up, Lance whispered nervously, “Oh my god, it’s happening,” with a squeal.

“I still don’t understand why you dragged me all the way to the beach,” Keith thought he heard Shiro say. “I mean, it’s nice, and you’re nice- Hunk?”

“Up, up!” Lance pulled on Keith’s arm, voice still hushed, already swiping up from his phone’s lock screen to the camera. They stood up from their crouch behind their rocks to find no one even looking in their direction, Hunk’s camera in position and Allura just getting down on one knee, and that was when the sky decided to break open.

“ _Rain!”_ Pidge shouted and threw their arms up, and Hunk screamed, clearly thinking about the camera. Keith glanced to Lance, who chuckled a little and put his phone into his back pocket nonchalantly.

“Fuck it, it’s already wet,” he said, and completely vaulted over the rocks, Keith scrambling behind him.

Shiro, poor Shiro- was reacting to the proposal and to the sudden downpour all at once- leaned down to grab Allura’s hands and help her up.

“Yes, yes-” he said, pulling her closer. “Let’s run,” and then everyone was making a mad dash towards the cars.

Keith ended up behind the wheel of the truck, with a sopping wet and enthusiastic Pidge and a concerned Hunk, and after checking to make sure Lance got in fine with Allura and Shiro and hadn’t been lost in the storm, he pulled out of the lot and closely tailed the other car back to the apartment. It was still raining, and it didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime soon. The three of them dashed to the cover of the stairwell, right behind the rest of the group.

By the time they’d reached the apartment, Shiro was already crying, and the entryway was wet and sandy, which made Keith sigh aloud.

“I can’t believe you,” Shiro said to Allura, and kissed her on the nose, eliciting a quick giggle. “And you four, too. Thank you so much for helping.”

“Group hug?” Hunk asked, his arm already around Lance’s shoulder. Allura grabbed Pidge, and Shiro joined the groups, wrapping his arms around Allura and Hunk. Pidge and Lance turned to Keith, still standing on the edges, arms crossed.

Shiro met his gaze. “Just this once?” His brother requested, a soft smile on his face.

“Fine. Just this once,” Keith exhaled and stepped into the circle to hug it out.

\----

Keith was the last one to get a shower, and by the time he’d showered, dried off, and changed, the party in the main room was already underway. Lance and Pidge were both wearing his clothes and Hunk was wearing Shiro’s, and all of their phones were sitting on the counter in a punch bowl filled with rice because they had gotten pretty wet and it was better safe than sorry.

 Allura was fussing over Hunk’s camera, which seemed okay albeit a little water-damaged.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about the camera,” she said, “I shouldn’t’ve done it on the beach.”

“It’s fine, really,” Hunk reassured her. “I was going to buy a new one at the end of the summer anyway.”

“I’ll add a little extra to your summer bonus,” she hummed, blushing a little as she pulled Shiro’s arm tighter around her waist. “Other than that… I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Keith, look at these,” Pidge beckoned him over to where they were holding the camera.

He took it from them and clicked through the photos, squinting at the screen. There weren’t a lot of them, but they were of good quality and so sweet; Shiro and Allura walking onto the beach, Allura on one knee with the tumultuous ocean as the backdrop, a few closer shots, then a blurry one when it’d started raining.

A weight fell on Keith’s shoulder. It was Lance, burying his chin into the space above Keith’s collarbone and looking down. “Pretty good, right?” He asked, voice light and happy and Keith’s heart rose back up into his chest. They were close, really close, and it shouldn’t be giving him heart palpitations because he’d been pressed against Lance just a half hour ago for the long, sentimental group hug, but it was. Was he panicking? No, he couldn’t be.

“Yeah, they’re great,” he said, stepping away and barely catching the slight droop of Lance’s smile. Sullying his good mood felt like a punch to the gut, even it was back in a flash. His emotions felt amplified in a way they hadn’t in a long time. Friendship? Intense friendship?

“Want to play Mario Kart with Pidge and I?” Lance asked him after a second, and he agreed, eager to slip back into the flow of things and escape whatever weird feelings he had.

Turned out Keith was the decidedly the worst of the bunch, though it was by no large margin. He hadn’t played since before he’d learned to drive, and kept forgetting how sensitive the controls on those damn go karts were. He fell off the course at least once every game where it was possible, but outside of a few too sharp turns was overall decent and landed himself consistently in the middle of the scoreboard. Pidge and Lance were good, neither of them outstanding, but practiced enough to beat the computer and vie it out with each other for first place.

Coran had showed up at some point, and was playing euchre with Shiro. Allura and Hunk, a little grumbly after an attempt at teaching them one of his own complicated card games had been rejected. After Hunk and Allura destroyed Shiro and Coran with little mercy- 10 to 3- Shiro interrupted Yoshi Falls to congregate the group for cake.  

“Delicious as always, Hunk,” Allura praised, while Lance added on enthusiastically, “It’s awesome, big guy!”                   

Coran, who Keith had only talked to once before, told Keith a story while he was eating his cake, about a trip to Europe he’d taken in his younger days. It had a few too many people, places and foreign food dishes for Keith to follow, but he sat silently and listened while savoring forkfuls of red velvet and basking in the warm, giddy glow of the condo. Even after he’d finished his slice of cake he stayed to socialize with the older man, who was a little crazy but amiably so. Keith learned that he was Allura’s godfather and that he was very, very fond of Lance, something that united the whole group, but Coran appreciated the boisterous boy openly and unabashedly so, whereas he got some tough love from the others.

Everyday it seemed like Keith was learning new things about this place and his new friends, and hell, he didn’t know all of their last names but he knew the growing feeling of happiness and belonging he felt, and it scared him, as it should’ve, because it had the power to hurt him, but love always overshone fear and the nagging, ill sensation was pushed to the bottom of his gut where it would have to pass through his heart to reach his mind.                                           

Everyone had broken off to do their own thing as midnight approached and everyone began to tire. Coran had left after twenty minutes, bidding Keith goodbye and citing exhaustion due to having stayed out past his 10:30 bedtime. Pidge and Hunk were back in front of the TV, and Shiro and Allura were curled together on the couch, heads pressed together and sharing soft words and chaste kisses. Lance was on the other couch, buried under decorative pillows and on his phone, scrolling through Instagram and looking as beautiful as Keith had ever seen him, silent for once, hair splayed in a halo around his face, eyes half lidded and a small, contented smile across his features, undeniably pretty while relaxed.

He walked up behind the loveseat, not wanting to disturb the quiet peace and balance of the whole room with his presence- glowing lights and Mario Kart music and the excess flowers everywhere made Keith feel like his home had become one of those places where reality was a little altered.

“Hey, man.” Lance looked up at Keith’s face as he sat down on the couch’s arm, expression fond and unchanged. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Hmm… Dogs or cats?”

“You can’t just spring a question like that on me, mullet,” Lance frowned, having returned a bit to his normal self, to Keith’s… Relief? Disappointment? “Cats are good and dogs are good. I have both. A cat and a dog, I mean. How about you?”

“Never had any pets,” Keith shook his head. “But… I think I’d like to have a cat someday.”

“Yeah, you seem like a cat person,” Lance hummed, and Keith didn’t say anything else, because the silence was comfortable. He watched the room, unsure if Lance had gone back to his phone or was still following Keith’s gaze. Shiro and Allura across from them had gone from engaged to completely in their own world, and Keith felt the tick.

“We should leave,” Lance murmured. “And let them be. To Pidge’s?”

The T.V was turned off, goodbyes were said, and Keith had grabbed his pre-packed overnight bag. Allura followed the others out onto the landing to say goodnight, leaving just Keith and Shiro in the entryway, surrounded by wet clothes hanging to dry.

Keith dropped his overnight bag from over his shoulder onto the floor and hugged Shiro, arms around him and face buried into his chest like hugs should be.

“I’m happy for you,” said Keith, muffled by the fabric of Shiro’s shirt.

“Yeah..- yeah,” Shiro said, and his voice was choked up a bit like he was going to cry again. The hug broke but Shiro kept his hand on Keith’s upper arms and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

Keith nodded, and his brother’s face turned into something unreadable. “Go have fun, alright?”

“I will,” Keith promised, before picking up his bag and sprinting out the door to catch up with his friends on the landing.

 

**Day 13**

Leaning his forehead against Blue’s window, Keith fell asleep on the way to Pidge’s. When he awoke to a suburban, two story house, he followed Pidge out of the backseat, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Pidge opened the garage door and ushered them inside and into the kitchen. The lights were all off in the house. A large glass window over the sink let in light from the streetlight outside, and the digital clock on the oven formed _1:13_ in flashing red.

Moving quietly over polished wood floors, Pidge showed them down to the basement, where they flicked on the lights to reveal a sleepover set up. Two air mattresses and the couch with sheets folded utop them, snacks in the middle, some movies piled up to the side and the works. Keith, who hadn’t been to a sleepover since middle school, was torn between wanting to play stupid games and tell secrets in the dark and wanting to sleep, because he was tired as fuck.

“This looks great, man,” Hunk said, yawning. “But I think I’m too tired tonight.”

“Wimps,” Pidge grumbled as everyone else nodded their agreement, but even they fell asleep on the couch in a matter of minutes once the lights were turned off.

Keith’s sleep was light and fitful. He came to consciousness in the strange basement at least four times that night, and remained teetering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness until the sound of his friends’ steady breathing put him to sleep again.

The fifth time was to Lance sliding under the covers. “Hunk keeps stealing all the blankets and it’s cold down here, move over, dude,” he grumbled and Keith complied because he’d noticed the gradual chill seeping into Pidge’s basement. It was warmer with another body beside him, and that body was _Lance,_ quick to fall asleep and completely hidden by the darkness. The strange, fleeting feeling settled back in Keith’s chest and almost drew an ‘oh’ past his lips, because, _oh,_ he had a crush.

\----

It made sense, Keith thought to himself as he watched the other boy dance around the kitchen, gloriously getting in Hunk’s way with the energy of a true morning person, even if it was half past noon. Lance was attractive, no doubt about it, but he was also friendly and energetic and funny and had that special something that made Keith’s heart rate spike, even if Lance wasn’t Keith’s usual type.

He didn’t think about it too hard. He’d been thinking about it a lot harder upon waking up with his limbs partially entangled in Lance’s, but it was still a new crush, a small one that didn’t hurt. He wasn’t sure if it would grow; Feelings were hard to control like that, but nonetheless this new attraction was a problem for future Keith if a problem at all.

Mrs. Holt was making waffles in the kitchen, and Pidge’s older brother, Matt, sat on the elevated bar on a laptop. He’d introduced himself to Keith as one of Shiro’s friends, but returned to his screen without any small talk.

The four of them were playing Just Dance 2016 in the living room, which partially opened to the kitchen. The first batch of waffles was almost finished and they’d begun to smell. Hunk and Keith were benched, having been eliminated as per the rules of their tournament, leaving Lance and Pidge still dancing and two extremely competitive forces to be reckoned with. The championship round was the song with the whore mouse and the doll? mannequin-like avatar whose dance moves when copied by Lance were all over the place and a real danger to Pidge. Lance was as flamboyant as ever and the game ate that shit up, but Pidge was holding their own and hit every _Yeah!_ while Lance tended to miss them.

“Waffles!” Mrs. Holt called, and everyone bolted to the kitchen, leaving the albatrouz chick to dance all by her sad, lonely self, wii remotes discarded.

They had breakfast, had another Just Dance tournament (Pidge won) and watched _Sharknado 2_ in the basement before Pidge kicked them out of their house.

“Got shit to do, places to be,” they said. “See you guys tomorrow at work.”

“Oh, work,” Lance sighed, stopped on the Holt’s front porch, door solidly closed. “I thought it was the weekend.”

“Lance, it’s only Tuesday,” Keith reminded him.

Outside, the dull blue sky was filled with wispy clouds that barely covered the sun. Puddles decorated the sidewalks and water still trickled off the leaves of the plants in the front yard. The three of them lingered on the driveway, next to Lance’s truck.

“Oh, right, it’s Tuesday!” said Hunk, perking up.

“What’s on Tuesdays?” Keith questioned.

“Shay works on Tuesdays,” Lance explained, with a wink.

“Well, and on Thursdays and Fridays as well,” Hunk corrected, seemingly embarrassed. “Come on, Lance, can we get ice cream?”

“Depends,” the lankier boy answered, one of his signature smirks on his face. “You gonna ask her out this time?”

“Yeah! This is the time!”

“It better be, if I’m gonna spend seven bucks for ice cream in this weather,” Lance said pointedly.

“Well, you don’t have to worry, because he’s gonna do it,” Keith said, firmly patting Hunk on the back for support.

“Wanna come, Keith?” asked Hunk.

“Nah. As much as I’d love to be there for moral support, I think I gotta head home. I’ll hitch a ride though.”

“Duh, wasn’t gonna leave you to walk home in the rain,” Lance said, unlocking the truck.

“I dunno, you might’ve,” teased Keith. Lance, sitting in the driver’s seat sideways, stuck out his tongue.

The ride back to the condo was a lot shorter than Keith remembered it being, and it could be because he was nervous but it could also just have been the strange haze of the previous night that had made the car trip longer. Lance pulled into the parking lot, and he and Hunk bid Keith goodbye before heading off again towards the boardwalk.

The condo smelled like bacon. Keith shouted, “I’m back!”, and no one responded, but upon further investigating, there was a teakettle of boiling water on the stove. Neither Shiro nor Allura would leave the stove running if they weren’t planning to be back soon, so Keith assumed he wouldn’t be alone for long.

The living room was a little trashed from last night. Apparently no one had bothered to clean up after themselves- Keith supposed he was guilty too- as plastic plates and paper cups were scattered everywhere, along with tons and tons of flowers that needed to be watered, and maybe moved, because the living room looked like a greenhouse.

He emptied his overnight bag and changed clothes, and he was checking his tumblr when he heard the door.

“Hey,” he said, poking his head out his bedroom door. Shiro was in the kitchen, with two paper bags from the neighborhood Target sitting on the counter.

“Hey, you’re back,” he smiled, “How was Pidge’s? A wild night?”

“Wild morning. We were all lights out last night.”

“Yeah, us too,” Shiro hummed.

“I was kinda expecting Allura,” Keith said, gesturing at the teapot. “Didn’t think you liked tea.”

“Allura had to go help Coran with something in his house. She’ll be back soon. And I still don’t like tea. The water’s for the jello.” Shiro pointed at the small boxes on the counter.

Keith made a face. “Shiro, that stuff’s gross.”

“Suit yourself, more for me. I’m gonna whip this up real quick and clean this place before my fiancée returns. You gonna help?”

Keith grabbed a trash bag. Of course he was gonna help.

Shiro got a big glass pan out of a cupboard, and got about preparing that jello while Keith collected the trash in the living room and took a broom to the floor. They’d cleaned up the whole place yesterday, he lamented, but with wet teeangers and parties, it did really need another clean. Shiro took the entryway, which was nice of him because it was definitely the dirtiest room due to the dried mud and sand grains everywhere. When they were done, the brothers collapsed back onto the couch and sat silently for a couple moments, watching the sky out the front window.

“I really don’t know what we’re going to do with all these flowers,” Shiro finally said, looking around, and Keith had to agree. In hindsight, it was a little ridiculous. Keith had picked up the order, so he knew what it was: 27 bouquets of the same flower, some Keith had already forgotten the name of and didn’t know the significance of because he didn’t know jackshit about flowers. Yeah, Shiro had nearly cried when he’d seen them first, but now did they not only have 27 flower bouquets on the side tables, coffee table, TV cupboard, bookshelf- and the multiple orders meant they also had 27 vases, and who needed 27 vases?

“We could just give them out,” Keith suggested, then suddenly felt awkward about the idea when he felt Shiro’s gaze back on him. “You know… To people around town. Like Coran, and Lance and Hunk and Pidge and the other employees at the store.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Shiro agreed, then paused for a moment. “I’m really glad you came this summer.”

“I’m glad I came too.”

“I’m sorry I left you,” Shiro said. And Keith really wanted to say that he was forgiven because he _knew_ Shiro hadn’t meant to hurt him and he _knew_ his brother had been having a hard time too, but it still hurt.

“Why’d you do it?”

Shiro shook his head. “I made a bad choice. I didn’t mean to lose contact with you, I just needed to get away. Mom and Dad didn’t want me talking to you after, you know, but that’s not an excuse.”

“It’s okay,” Keith said. “Well, it’s getting there. I know you didn’t mean it.  And it’s alright now because you’re happy here, and you’re back in my life, so I’m happy now.”

“Thanks, Keith.”

“All things considered.” He rested his cheek on the palm of his hand. “At least you only moved to California. You could’ve been abducted by aliens or something.”

“Aliens?” Shiro guffawed incredulously. “Why would I be abducted by aliens?”

“It could happen,” Keith said. “They’re out there.”

“Sure they are. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“I think I’ve actually changed a lot.”

“Well, we’ve got the whole summer to catch up, don’t we?” Shiro said, rising from the couch.

“The whole summer minus two weeks of wasted time,” corrected Keith.

“That time wasn’t wasted,” Shiro chastised. “You got to relax and make friends.”

“And get a paycheck.”

“Wonderful. Don’t use the money on anything stupid.”

Keith tilted his head back to his brother in the kitchen. “I’m going into college, it’ll probably go towards food.”

Shiro looked up, with a strange glint in his eye like he was about to talk about Keith’s education, but Keith was about done with hard conversations so he said so and Shiro laughed.

“One last thing?” Shiro requested.

“Sure, I guess. Don’t made it too gross,” said Keith reluctantly.

“I’m proud of you.”

“Ew.”

“You know. For trying your best here. And getting along with everyone so well. You’re a little bit awkward, but you always try your best.”

“I want to vomit,” Keith said, head turned away to hide his blush.

Allura came home shortly after, and they played some table games while Shiro ate berry blue jello directly from the large glass pan he’d chilled it in. Allura won boggle, Shiro won scattergories, and Keith won Go Fish, although he was accused of cheating multiple times. Go Fish was one of the world’s easiest games to cheat at, after all, and Keith had done so religiously in his youth, but he’d grown out of that, _Shiro._

After dinner, they’d all turned in early. Keith was finally able to kick back and relax, although he did get some texts.

(8:59 pm)

Lance: oMg i forgot to text you guys but hE aSkEd hEr oUt

Hunk: Lance!!! >_<

 

(9:06 pm)

Pidge: HOW COULD YOU FORGET SOMETHING THIS IMPORTANT!!!!111!!!

Pidge: she said yes, right?

Pidge: who am I kidding, of course she said yes.

Lance: She said yes ;)

Hunk: with how excited you are you’d think it’s YOUR date

Lance: a date for my best bro is just as important :0

Keith: Congrats, man

Pidge: Alright, tell us everything!!

Lance: Okay funny story we were there for two hours

Pidge: No

Lance: Yes

Hunk: You’re a shit best friend

Lance: we ate like fifty dollar’s worth of ice cream oh my god shay kept coming over and asking us if we were okay and i was so tempted to just ask her for hunk

Keith: You didn’t though, right?

Lance: ofc not!!!! who do you think i am!!

Pidge: keep going i’m invested now

Hunk: please stop

Lance: alright he finally asked her when

 

**Day 17**

“Did you ask Hunk how his date went?” Keith asked Lance as the other boy unloaded the surfboards from the trunk of his car.

“Yep, he said it went great, with the blushiest look on his face. I’m not even surprised, they’ve got such great chemistry,” was Lance’s response.

“How long have they known each other?”

“Oh,” Lance said. “In passing? For a while, since we all went to the same schools and stuff. I don’t know when they started talking. Take one of these.”

Keith picked up one of the surfboards. It was heavy, and awkward to carry. They were at the same beach as their beach day, but it was abandoned now. Even the lifeguard’s chairs were empty. This was, of course, because it was five in the fucking morning, earlier than Keith would ever, ever want to be awake, but a pretty boy who he’d recently become friends with invited him out surfing, and the begging may have been a joke but Keith’s inability to say no to him was very real, so here he was. It had been hard to get up, but it was nice, now. There was something surreal about being on an empty beach before the sun was fully over the horizon. Keith was wearing an extra wetsuit of Lance’s and getting used to the strange feel of the blubbery fabric.

“You sure a shark won’t mistake me for a seal and eat me?” He questioned, eyebrow raised.

“No,” Lance said seriously. “There’s always a chance you’ll be attacked by a shark. A really really small chance, but like… Can’t say no.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Are you scared?”

“...Hell no.”

The surf lesson started in the sand, with Keith practicing getting up and his surfing position before they even entered the water When Lance was satisfied with Keith’s progress, they moved to the water, leaving Lance’s surfboard on the beach. They didn’t have to go out too far, because Lance didn’t want Keith’s first waves to be the biggest ones.

“I’m gonna push you into the waves, like we talked about, ‘kay? Not this one, but the one after that,” Lance said from where he was floating behind Keith’s board. Keith was on his stomach, a little back from centered, so he could jump up to the right spot in the board.

The first larger wave of the set passed, and when the second one came, Lance pushed and Keith paddled.

“Now!” He heard Lance call, and he tried to replicate what he’d been shown on the beach, but fell off almost immediately, god, balance.

“Not bad for your first time,” Lance said when Keith had hauled the board back to the spot where Lance was treading water, bobbing over the waves. Keith had good balance, he’d gotten the longboard right away and had played hockey for a while as a kid, so he thought he would be able to get it with a few adjustment, even if balancing on a moving board on top of the water was a lot different than any of those things and arguably harder. The FlowRider had to count for something, right? Probably not.

 He discussed with Lance what to try next time, but the best thing he could do was practice and practice.

A couple tries later, after the push and the paddle, he stood up and didn’t immediately fall off right away, even though he felt the imbalance after just a second on his feet and jumped off.

 “I got it!” He called excitedly to the ocean. From somewhere over the crest of the incoming wave, Lance’s voice came back with a, “Woo-hoo!”

Standing up was still a challenge, but he got the paddle down solid and could maneuver himself, so Lance returned to get his own board while Keith continued practicing. He made it into the shallows once, practically up onto the shore, and was actually able to _stand_ on the board and _exist_ there, and really, it was great. It was worth getting up early for, maybe not every day, but he understood why Lance loved it.

Speaking of: Lance was much, much better than Keith and almost certainly showing off with little graceful tricks on the board, little 180s and twists. Keith didn’t quite want to give him the gratification of admitting how good he was, but he was sure Lance knew and could see it on Keith’s face, which wasn’t a problem.

The waves lulled as the sun fully rose over the horizon line, leaving Keith and Lance sitting up on their boards, waiting for the next round.

“I’m opening today,” Keith reminded Lance.

“Damn, yeah, you told me that, but I forgot, sorry. One more and we’ll go in?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They caught their last wave, then carried the boards out of the water. They crossed the threshold of where the tide met the water and heading up onto the parking lot, to Blue.

Peeling off the wetsuit was possibly grosser than having it on dry, and sand had made its way into the suit, like it made its way into literally everything. Keith didn’t even need to be surprised by now.

“I’m gonna be finding sand up my asshole when I’m forty,” he told Lance while rinsing off in the outdoor shower.

“It’s a part of my life by now,” Lance answered, grabbing his shampoo bottles. “Me and the sand are one.”

“You really brought shampoo and conditioner?”

“Uh, yeah? You expect me to go to work with sand in my scalp?” He poured an excessive glob of conditioned onto his palm.

“Yeah? How much of that stuff do you go through?”

“Way too much. I’m too broke to afford these expensive habits, need me a sugar daddy.”

“Alright, gimme some.”

“You’re gonna hate on my shampoo then want in? No way, fuck you, thought you wanted to go to work with a sandy mullet.”

“That’s only until I learned there was another option!” Keith said, and he grabbed for the bottle in Lance’s hand, which was a mistake, because the other boy would’ve certainly handed it over until he saw an opportunity to frustrate Keith, so he held it over his head, flaunting that one-inch height difference they had until Keith yanked on his arm and used his shoulder for leverage to wrestle the bottle away, because he knew how to play dirty.

Lance brought a small cooler with two breakfast sandwiches inside and two plastic bowls of fruit, seran-wrapped, courtesy of Lance’s mama. They sat on the least sandy bench they could find to air dry, since it turned out they still had a half hour until seven when Keith was due at the shop.

They ended up talking. It started off with the small things they didn’t know, favorite colors, favorite foods. Hobbies outside of what they knew about the other already. Music taste. Eventually, Lance started talking about his family, his parents, his four older siblings, his nieces and nephews that lived with them. Lance’s house was a little larger than Pidge’s, he said, but much more crowded. Nine people lived there: Lance’s parents, Lance, his abuela, his oldest sister and her husband, and their three young kids. His extended family was also Large with a capital L, spread across California, Florida, and Cuba.

Keith felt comfortable to talk about his own family, so he did. He told Lance how he was adopted by the Shiroganes at a young age. He told him about Shiro’s grandparents down in Florida, who took all their grandchildren, Keith and Shiro and two others during the summer and they played on the beach. How that’d stopped when Shiro had started high school and had summer work constantly, summer courses and standardized test preps to do in the off season, leaving Keith alone in Florida with a couple of pleasant but boring elderly people and two younger children he’d never clicked with. How the Shiroganes were good parents but too hung up on Shiro’s schoolwork because he was gifted and they wanted him to become a doctor. Shiro had, of course, not wanted to do that, and felt like his career choice was best decided without his family’s help, so he’d disappeared after graduating high school, never showed up to medical school, and cut all ties with the family, including those with Keith. Lance was a good listener who already knew parts of the story, at least from what Shiro had divulged in the years since they’d met (not everything, but quite a bit).

It was overwhelmingly casual for what could probably be considered Keith’s deepest emotional baggage, which Keith liked. Lance asked him if he’d talked things out with Shiro yet, and seemed greatly pleased when Keith said that he had.

“Do you think aliens are real?” Keith asked Lance when they’d returned to Blue and were heading on route to Altea.

“Of course they’re real,” Lance said.

This was a good answer. However, follow up questions revealed Lance did not believe aliens had ever made contact with or arrived on Earth and that they were probably not in cahoots with the government.

“Figured you’d believe in all that stuff,” commented Lance, with a groan. “You probably think Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster are real too, you little shit. Pidge likes all that bullshit too, you guys could have a nerd out.”

“You’re a skeptic,” Keith scorned. He did not, in fact, believe in all that stuff, but he also didn’t _not_ believe in all that stuff.

“That’s fair,” Lance said.

“But maybe I will. Have a nerd out.”

“Wait, shit, don’t, I don’t need you two feeding off each other’s bad ideas.”

“Too late,” Keith said smugly.

 

**Day 22**

July grew closer and the weather grew hotter. Since the first time Keith had gone surfing (he’d gone once more since, with Allura) the weather had hit a hundred degrees fahrenheit three times, and it was another scorcher today at Altea. Coran was at a convention, for something or other, and Keith had been nominated for snow cone stand. Coran was a valiant man, and Keith was a lesser one. His heart ached for his shower, between the sweat pooling under his shirt and the sticky syrup on his hands from unfortunate snow cone accidents. He’d only dropped two today, but the residual syrup off the tap dripped everywhere and ended up on his fingers, his brow and his elbows. His stool was sitting to the side, unused because on scorchers people wanted snow cones and they wanted them quick. Altea served this section of the beach, along with an ice cream shack a couple hundred meters down, but they had more than enough business with the crowds of tourists looking for relief from the heat.

“Here’s your cone,” Keith handed an hellish concoction to a preteen girl in a tankini. The flavors were non complimentary- green apple, pineapple, cherry and bubblegum- but who was he to judge, because if he was allowed to choose as many flavors as he wanted he’d sure come up with something gross too.

“Ah, air-conditioning,” a familiar, mocking voice said from behind him when he’d sent off the customers. It was Lance, followed closely by Pidge and Hunk, all three of them non-sweaty and out of their Altea uniforms, which was strange, because it wasn’t anywhere near the end of their shifts. Keith wasn’t wearing his either, Allura wasn’t about to make him wear polo out in this heat, which was at least one blessing for Keith to count.

“Shut up,” Keith said. “What are you guys doing out here, anyway?”

“We’re on our break,” Hunk replied. “It’s only fifteen minutes, but still.”

“You’re on your break and you chose to come outside?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, man. We’re gonna go jump in the ocean!” stated Pidge enthusiastically and Lance _who-hoo_ ed in the background.

Seeing Keith’s confused look, Hunk added, “For the hell of it?”

“Wanna come?” Asked Pidge.

Keith gestured at the cart.

“Oh, Allura said you could. Those poor bastards can wait in line for Beezer’s.”

“Alright, I guess,” Keith said, and placed the Be Back Soon! sign from under the counter on top of the cart.

They dodged the crowds of tourists around the dolphin statue, Pidge screaming because they hadn’t brought shoes and the asphalt was hot enough to burn their feet off then Pidge screaming a little less quietly because they’d reached the sand, and the sand wasn’t that much cooler it was a noticeable notch down from Satan’s frying pan.

Keith was an impulse enthusiast and was already enjoying himself even if he didn’t have the way to show it that Hunk and Lance did. The trio dodged colorful beach umbrellas and stepped on abandoned towels, avoided masochistic sunbathers sure to have a burn, and raced each other down to the shoreline. Keith was pummeled by a larger wave when he was thigh deep in the water, and it pushed him down onto his ass, soaked his hair and filled his mouth with salty seawater and he laughed through it and wrapped his arms around Pidge’s legs, dragging them down too.

“Alright, that was fun, but we should be getting back if we want-” Hunk began to say, interrupted by Lance pushing him over into the crest of the next wave.

“War! This is war!” He spluttered, and Lance dove deftly into the water like a dolphin as Hunk fumbled to grab the sleeve of Lance’s shirt.

They were late to get back.

 

**Day 24**

Keith and Pidge had their nerd out the next time the group got together, much to Lance’s chargain. They were at Hunk’s place, and camped out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, scrolling through Keith’s tumblr.

“You guys are just leaving me here to build the pillow fort on my own, I see,” Lance grumbled on his way down the stairs, more blankets in his arms.

“Does Hunk even know we’re at his house?” Keith wondered, noting the big guy’s persistent absence.

“Probably,” answered Pidge.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Probably,” Lance repeated.

The answer was no, he didn’t, but the pillow fort was completely built by the time he returned, and his moms were baking apple pie in the kitchen per Lance’s suggestion, so he was pleasantly surprised. The four of them sat in the pillow fort while Hunk talked about his date, Lance breaking in with embarrassing Hunk anecdotes when appropriate.

“You guys are cute and kind of gross,” Lance tells Hunk. “Like, when you gave her your sweatshirt outside the Balmera the other day? Disgusting. Shay was just as blushy as Hunk, guys.”

“Impossible,” Pidge said. “Look, he’s getting embarrassed just talking about it.”

Hunk’s face was turning red and he covered his face with his hands in shame.

“Here, we’ll recreate it,” Lance grabbed Keith’s jacket, which was laying on Keith’s lap, but he slammed a hand down on the fabric before Lance could pull it away. “Let go, mullet.”

“Dude.”

“I’m Shay, you’re Hunk, alright?” Lance said, and Keith released the jacket, pulse getting a little faster when Lance pulled it over his shoulders.

“Hunk has just given me his jacket,” Lance giggled dramatically into the sleeve. “Thanks, Hunky.”

“Shay does _not_ call me Hunky.”

“Uh, no problem?” Keith tried. 

“No, no, more blushy!” Pidge smacked him upside the head with a pillow.

“Umh, no problem, Shay?” Keith tried again, but it still came out questioning and flat.

“We’ll work on it,” said Lance, before taking both of Keith’s hands in his own, sending a spike of adrenaline up Keith’s spine. “So now we’re holding hands, because we’re sweet.”

“We weren’t holding hands!” Protested Hunk. 

“Uh, yes you were?” Lance said, all while casually holding Keith’s hands. “I saw you!”

A very real blush was rising onto Keith’s cheeks as Lance’s thumb slowly circled on the back of Keith’s palm, softly and not necessary for this roleplay. _Shit shit shit I’m gay._

“Alright, where were we? Oh, right,” the other boy looked at Keith with a bit of a smirk on his face and the rest of his features schooled in some fond facial manipulations. “Thank you for coming to see me, Hunky. I missed you.”

“She _does not_ call me Hunky!”

Keith was reacting to this. Lance’s hands were nice and soft around his own, just like he’d imagined, and his face was a little joking, but Keith could pretend for a moment the softness there was real and not just good acting. There was silence in the pillow fort for a moment, Keith and Lance holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes and _shit fuck_ what was Keith supposed to say again?

“He doesn’t know his lines, dummy,” Pidge said, breaking whatever spell Keith had fallen under. Lance blinked too, and let go of Keith’s hands.

“Oh, right, you’re supposed to tell me you missed me too and to keep the sweatshirt because it’s cold out. And then you come over to the incredible handsome and smooth Lance to word vomit while he drives you home.” 

“I missed you too. Keep the sweater, it’s cold out?”

“Thank you, Hunky, I’ll see you soon.” Lance leaned closer to Keith and pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek and Keith could hear Hunk in the background (“Stop calling me Hunky! Damnit!) but he was focused on his cheek’s tingling and stuttering out a “B-bye Shay.” to minimize embarrassment.

“Dude, dude, look at Keith, he looks just like you,” Pidge elbowed Hunk, and Lance laughed.

“Yeah man, your acting was a little rough at the start, but you nailed it! Damn, you’re so red!” Lance clapped his on the shoulder and returned his jacket.

“A kiss for the original too,” Lance leaned back to kiss his best friend on the cheek.

“Aw, thanks, Lance.” 

“No problem, Hunky.”

Hunk hit the wall of the fort with his fist and it all came tumbling down on top of them, sheets and blankets and pillows.

“My hard work!” Lance shrieked.

“That’s what you get for calling me Hunky!”

At that moment, one of Hunk’s moms called “Apple pie!” and Pidge dug her way out of the pile screeching.

 

**Day 27**

“Lance and Hunk are bringing donuts,” Pidge said.

Allura looked up from her desk work skeptically. “No. Lance’s birthday isn't for another month.”

“Everyone,” Pidge said loudly. “Lance and Hunk are bringing donuts!”

The other employees in the break room looked up eagerly. Shiro, who was apparently not on shift by how he was hanging about Altea, patted Allura on the shoulder and said, “There’s no undoing it now.”

“Way to make me look like a jerk boss, Pidge.” Allura sighed. “Make sure no one gets distracted or it’s your fault. I don’t want the register abandoned because everyone’s eating donuts.”

 “Understood, boss!" 

Lance and Hunk arrived two minutes before eight, already bordering on late and carrying five dozen donuts between them, two in Lance’s arms and three in Hunk’s.

“No one needs that many donuts!” Allura said when they set the boxes down in the break room, two part time workers following behind.

“To the contrary,” argued Hunk. “We have far too few donuts. Besides, one box is for Lance.”

“Lance doesn’t need a whole box,” said Shiro.

“It’s not for me, it’s for my sisters!” Lance corrected.

The part time workers ate a few donuts before Allura shooed them back into the store, Pidge, Lance and Hunk ate some donuts, Keith ate a single strawberry frosted donut, and Shiro ate no less than four donuts probably because he had nothing better to do than sit in the breakroom and eat donuts while everyone else was at work.

Keith ended up ringing up the board rentals in the back, a position he always jumped to take, because it was quieter back there, _not_ because it meant he got to small talk with Lance between both of their customers. Okay, maybe admittedly, that played a role too.

Lance had a ten o'clock on a retail condo’s private beach strip a few miles up, but no reservations beforehand, and Altea’s other surf instructor/part time lifeguard Florona was working the FlowRider, so Lance sat on the glass counter of designer sunglasses and bothered Keith, wearing shorts and a sleeveless hoodie instead of the Altea uniform. Keith wasn’t sure if he even needed to be at the store yet, but the thing about working at Altea: Keith’s friends all seemed to genuinely enjoy it, even if it _was_ retail work.

It was a nice day, and the tourists came in and out at a steady pace. Keith had been working long enough to be efficient and good at ringing up customers with Altea’s system, and was even working on his customer service facade.

Lance would shut up when somebody came to rent something out, but as soon as they were out of earshot he’d make some comment about them, bringing a smile to Keith’s face even if most of them were pointing out tanlines. Keith himself was a burner, most definitely not a tanner, but damn, those tan lines were funny, okay? Both of them thought so- although Keith, remembering his own tan lines left behind by his fingerless gloves his first week here, was markedly more sympathetic.

The back corner was lonelier after Lance left. It was a pretty isolated part of the store, with just the rentals and the fairly busy FlowRider. Keith had never talked to Florona  before- he knew she was friends with Lance’s old girlfriend, Plaxum, but… Wow, was Keith really picking up on all the people in this town? He couldn’t even remember all of his teacher’s names from a month ago and he’d been with them for a semester, maybe more.

\----

“When does Lance come back?” Keith asked while he was eating lunch in the back room (Jimmy John’s, courtesy of Shiro). Allura was sitting at the corner table, assembling a 5000 piece puzzle fairy scene as a ‘brain break’ and eating her own sandwich, while Shiro sat across from Keith at the middle table and chatting with some other employees on break. Pidge and Hunk had both taken their lunch break a little earlier- it was now half past one.

And Lance _still_ wasn’t back.

Shiro gave him a weird look. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s not even coming back.”

Keith felt _disappointed,_ which was a little soul-crushing because _shit_ it’s getting worse. He tried to neutralize his expression, because at this point, yeah, fine, he had a crush on Lance, he _acknowledged_ it and _accepted_ it but having his brother find out would be something different entirely. They’d been getting better, so much better, and Keith doubted Shiro would hesitate to make fun of him like he had when Keith was in seventh grade and had a crush on the school’s punk rocker.

“Lance is coming back,” Allura called from her corner. “He’s not already returned? He must be taking his time.”

“Unsurprising,” Keith said.

“Did you need him for something?” Shiro leaned his head on the palm of his hand and casually focused his stare on Keith.

“Nah. Just wondering.”

“Wondering, huh?” An eyebrow raised. _Uh oh, danger,_ went Keith’s brain.

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” grumbled Keith. “You’d want someone to talk to too if you were stuck in rentals all day.”

"Aw, you missed me?” Lance’s voice said from behind Keith- _when had he come in?!-_ , and suddenly a pair of familiar arms were looping around Keith’s neck and Lance was crouching behind him from where he must’ve come in through the front. “Aw, buddy.”

“Hey, Lance,” said Shiro as Keith felt his face heating up. “How was the surf lesson?”

“Average. There was this one funny thing that happened with the mom though, oh my god, ” Lance retold the rest of his story, face nearly pressed against Keith’s cheek, soft breath rustling the hair near his face.

“Lunch break’s over,” called Allura. “Keith, front register. Lance, you can go with him since he’s so lonely.”

“Okay, lemme just go change into my uniform, boss-lady.”

“I’m not- Pidge is already at the front, I don’t need-” Keith stammered as Lance released his grip. He could feel the heat spread across his cheeks. Just one moment to recover when Lance left for the changing room and Allura for her office, but still under the scrutinizing gaze of his older brother-

Shiro found out about his crush.

 

**Day 28**

“Shiro, why the fuck did you wake me up at nine am on my day off?”

Shiro, making himself a cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, said, “Good morning to you too.”

“It’s a godawful morning. I thought I’d be able to sleep in one fuckin’ day this miserable month.”

After a moment of consideration, Shiro pensively handed over his coffee mug to Keith. “I think you need it more.”

“Thanks but also fuck you,” said Keith, accepting.

“We’ve got plans,” Shiro explained as he reset the coffee maker. “Be ready by ten.”

“What kind of plans,” Keith narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Require waking me up this early?”

“Keith. It’s nine a.m. I know you’re a morning person. How much sleep did you get last night?”

“Not enough.”

“Of your own volition, or…?” asked Shiro.

 “My fault. I was busy.”

“Too busy thinking about Lance?”

“Oh my god,” Keith groaned. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Ten thousand times fuck you. You know what? I’ll go to your stupid plans if you just shut the fuck up.”

Shiro had a smirk on his face. “See, lil’ bro, the thing is, you’re going to our plans whether I stop teasing you or not.”

“Bye. I’m going back to Mom and Dad’s. Buy me a plane ticket back to the midwest to escape this hell.” Keith walked backwards back towards his room, flipping the bird at Shiro who jokingly returned the action with his prosthetic.

“I hope you’re going to get dressed!”

“I’m not, I’m going to _die!_ ”

\----

Shiro’s plans, turned out, ended up with him back at the boardwalk, but not at Altea, thankfully. The place was cool and all, but on his day off? Hell no.

Lance, Hunk, Pidge and even Coran actually all _also_ had the day off, which should’ve been a little suspicious from the get go. They pulled into another small alley-parking lot, like the employee parking for the surf store, but a different lot behind another part of the boardwalk. Lance’s blue pickup was also parked, with her owner nowhere to be seen. When they made their way in front of the buildings again, they were far closer to the actual pier than Keith was used too. The straight path of the buildings curved into a semi-circle with a large fountain in the middle. It was way bigger than the dolphin statue outside Altea, and depicted some sort of robot, with strange, blocky hands, mechanical wings, and spouts of water coming from above and below.

The crew waited beneath it, Lance and Pidge balanced on the cement ring surrounding the pool and Hunk, Coran and Allura talking amongst themselves.

“Oh, finally, you’re here!” Coran greeted when he noticed them approach. “We can get started at last!”

“What’s happening?” Keith asked Lance, who balanced above Keith by about a foot.

“Dude, there are like ten hundred posters about it all over town. The ones in the window at Altea?”

“Don’t those say July 10th? That’s nine days away, Lance

“You’re right.” He jumped down. “My dearest friend, before anything great can happen, we must prepare, so let’s bust out the mops.”

What? “Do I have to clean? Hell no. Hell no, I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Tough luck,” said Pidge, giving Keith a heavy pat on the back. “You’re part of the family now, and family helps Coran restore Voltron.”

“Voltron?”

“Voltron!” Lance cheered. “When I say Vol, you say Tron! Vol!”

“What’s a Voltron?”

“This is Voltron!” Coran’s energetic voice came from up ahead, to where they’d gravitated towards the shops. They’d stopped in front of a larger building with darkened, dusty windows, but the same red poster plastered on the glass but larger, and with the words ‘reopening July 10th’ in bold. The giant sign hanging above the entrance read ‘Voltron: Legendary Defender’ and under that: ‘video arcade’. 

Coran unlocked the door and held it open, gesturing inside. “Welcome, Paladins!”

The entryway was huge, and the decor was space themed, like many video arcades Keith had seen, but above their heads were more statues. Lions.

“Like the Paladin Quest Lions?” He wondered aloud, and Pidge nodded.

“Yeah, we told you that Allura’s dad made that game, right?”

“Yep.”

“Well, this is the original arcade. Went out of business a while ago, when people started losing interest in this kinda stuff and Alfor’s business partners had a fight amongst themselves.” Pidge explained, gesturing around the room. It was lit now, dirty, and full of boxes, some old and a lot of new ones.

“It’s reopening?”

“Yeah! Paladin Quest’s being made into an actual video game. Coran used basically all the money he got selling the rights to revamp this place and buy more current games.”

“Another part of the deal was that this place be the first store allowed to sell it. The official release date isn’t for another month. Coran was hoping it would draw in business and stuff,” Lance chimed in.

“The professional crew’s here!” Coran announced, popping out of a side door. “Allura?”

“Welcome to your new summer jobs,” Allura bluntly said. “This place is only going to be open for the rest of the summer, at which point we’ll be gaging if there’s enough interest to keep it open permanently.”

“Hopefully there will be, or else we’ll have to sell it,” Coran interrupted.

“Wait, we’ll be working here? What about our other jobs? Why us?” Hunk questioned, looking a little uncertain.

“There’s no shortage of employees at Altea this summer,” said Allura. “Obviously, we’ll feel your absence, but this place is very close to my heart, and so are all of you. I can’t think of better people to be the new Paladins.”

“You’re gonna trust four teenagers with this place you’ve dumped all your money into?” Pidge asked Coran, who nodded.

“Well, obviously I’ll be here too!” He exclaimed. “Additionally, we have Shiro, who’s taking off the rest of the summer. Allura wanted to, but her job simply wouldn’t allow it.”

“Aw, so you’re doing it for her?” Lance crooned. “Aw, how sweet!”

“That, and I hate policing the boardwalk in the summer,” Shiro admitted.

“Alright, youngsters! Listen up!” said Coran. “We’ve got nine days until the grand opening. I’ve worked all year to update the games and replace the furniture in here, and we have a crew of people we’ve brought in to help us make the finishing touches, but there’s still lots to be done and lots for you to learn about being Paladins!”

After a moment of silence, Keith said, “Okay, let’s do it.”

\-----

The rest of the day was hectic. They learned the layout of the place, and helped make a list of everything that needed to be done. The games were nearly all set up and in their rightful places, and the seven of them plus the crew had done a pretty good job cleaning everything, but they still were waiting on tokens and tickets, the prize station still had to be set up and refilled, and there were a lot of finite details like security and the decor. Coran was particularly concerned with finding the best placements for the original statues or the lions and Voltron itself. They also required new uniforms, which had apparently already been custom ordered. Everyone had some sort of job to do, most of all Allura, who was in charge of hiring support staff. The arcade wasn’t huge, but they did need more than the five paladins: a janitorial staff, some kitchen staff for the small pizza parlor Coran had decided to add. Thankfully, construction on the addition had been finished months ago.

After a little bit of frustration ruffling through applicants, Allura just decided to hire a few more retails workers at Altea and transfer the mice, another set of loyal Altea workers, to support roles at the arcade.

“Keith. Keith. I found them,” Pidge whispered. They were sorting the boxes and separating the prizes, tokens and tickets from other various parts needed, and they had just opened a particularly large box.

“Found what?” Keith set down the clear container of plastic dinosaurs he’d been contemplating the display of, and walked over to Pidge.

“Them,” Pidge said as he looked in the box.

“Them,” Keith agreed. The box was full of neatly packaged video games, with crisp art on the front of a familiar robot.

“I’m gonna take one.”

“Don’t do it, Pidge,” Keith warned.

“Chill, it’s not stealing, I’ll slide the money into the cash register when we start working here,” said Pidge. “I just can’t wait another nine days to play it.”

Keith contemplated it. “And what do I get out of not ratting you out?”

“You. Me. My house. We can even invite Lance and Hunk. Play the shit out of this when they finally let us go and be exhausted tomorrow.”

“Mm. Sounds great.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

\----

“That kitchen is a mess,” Hunk said. “Who decided to put a pizza place in here? There’s like, one two stores down. We’re like a Chuck. E Cheese.”

“Take it up with Coran,” Allura sighed. All of them, minus Coran, who was seeing out the crew and locking up, were waiting in the kitchen to be dismissed. It was seven o’clock at night and for all the dirty work he did today, Keith sure as hell hoped he was getting paid and getting paid overtime.

“Maybe Coran was going for the Chuck E. Cheese feel,” suggested Lance. “Chuck E. Cheese’s stay in business.”

“No, they don’t?” Pidge said, but it sounded more like a question. “Do they?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a Chuck E. Cheese expert.”

Coran slid into the room. “Alright, we’re all set, Paladins. I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow! No slacking!”

Everyone collectively groaned, then exited as fast as they could.

“You coming with us, Keith?” Shiro asked.

“Nah, I’m going to Pidge’s,” Keith said. “Lance, can I ride with you?”

“Hop on in!” Lance called from the truck.

“How are you getting back?” asked Allura.

“I’ll just stay over,” Keith sighed. “If we’re gonna end up here bright and early anyway. Bring me a change of clothes?”

“Alright. You guys have fun, alright?” Shiro opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. “Also… I know what you did.”

“Pidge’s fault,” Keith smiled, and sprinted towards Blue, since Lance was threatening to drive away without him.

“Alright,” Pidge said from the backseat next to Keith, and held up her contraband copy of Paladin Quest. “Game time.”

 

**Day 39**

In the days since it had opened, the arcade had boasted a great turnout. The range of a video game arcade was generally pretty short, but an arcade that sold early release copies of a hotly anticipated and sought after classic game adaptation attracted at least a handful of people from farther away who had planned a trip just for the arcade. Coran’s statistics regarding the shop’s survival were looking very promising. Another factor was the pier itself, which used to boast fair games, opening and competing with the arcade, but now many of those were shut down, leaving the ferris wheel all by its lonesome self.

As far as the job went, Keith liked it. The paladin outfits Coran had had made were pretty badass, moreso than a beige polo for certain. Keith worked prize counter, which had its pros and cons, but so did checkout at Altea. Hunk was a staple in the restaurant area, chatting kids and adults alike up as Yellow. Pidge did much the same thing but in front, with a synthesizer, a secret talent they’d revealed. Lance sometimes worked prizes with Keith, sometime roamed around and gave people free tokens. Shiro was general manager.

The game was something else entirely. It was really unexpectedly good, with great graphics and a storyline that went beyond the routes you could choose in the original Paladin Quest. It had a group mode with up to seven players (according to the wiki, you could actually do eleven, but then some players would have to be the space mice) or a solo mode. Pidge found the latter to be exponentially harder and was getting more and more agitated with every passing day they proved unable to pass it.

“According to the creators, the game has over fifty different routes to win and I haven’t passed one! One!” They’d ranted at work that morning.

Hunk theorized the game was designed that way, to teach about teamwork. Lance said that was a shitty way to design a game especially since most players were lonely gremlins. Pidge hit him with a pillow.

Keith went about his days fairly easily and happily, and his bank account was singing with all this work, but save for particular moments it didn’t feel like that much work, just hanging out with his friends. He’d really settled in this summer and was getting used to the way things were around here- unfortunately, at this point his trip was halfway over, and the black hole of college he’d nearly forgotten about was starting to pop up in his peripherals. He’d stopped checking his emails entirely and probably should call his mom more than once a week.

But he wanted to have this. Playing Paladin Quest at Pidge’s house, going to the beach with the crew, surfing, just having fun made him feel like a kid and not a legal adult about to be burdened with college life. The fourth of july had been a few days ago and there had been fireworks over the boardwalk, set off on the beach a few miles up. They’d watched from Blue parked in one of the general parking lots, all seven of them plus Shay cramped in the truck bed save for Pidge and Allura on the roof.

Keith had been in the back corner, with Lance right next to him, and they’d been jostled together by Shay and Hunk readjusting, ending up with Lance’s head on Keith’s shoulder and Keith’s blanket across their laps- Lance had a blanket, greedy bastard, he didn’t need to share Keith’s.

His heart rate sped up just thinking about it. Lance’s hair tickling his chin, their legs pressed together, a contented smile on Lance’s face and eyes skyward to the fireworks.

Yeah.

But other times, Lance was gonna be Lance.

“Your hair looks stupid,” he commented, chin on his hand as he trained his gaze on Keith, his presence not clearly necessary at all while Keith was in getting in his paladin costume- the special one.

They each had two, a set of clothes styled after the paladin’s formal wear, and this, practically a whole armor cosplay but made professionally. These were for whoever was the greeter that day, or for a photoshoot, like now.

Keith gave Lance the stink eye. Per Coran’s suggestion he’d tried to style his hair slightly more like Red’s- the two were very similar.

“Mullet,” Lance continued, a snarky smile on his face that Keith _hated_ because it was something that would make him mad if Lance wasn’t Lance, beautiful and all done up with perfect, subtle touches of makeup for the camera. Blush, mascara, concealer, a little bit of eyeliner but nothing like Keith suspected Shiro would use.

“It’s not a mullet,” Keith said.

“It is a mullet, and it’s not gonna get any better looking, because stupid Red’s hair is a mullet too. What a weird coincidence. Anyway, lemme fix your face.”

“I don’t do makeup.”

“Everyone does makeup for professional shoots, Keith,” Lance argued, scooting closer. “Just some concealer to cover that zit on your forehead.”

Keith glanced at his forehead. “Fine, just that.”

He should’ve known better, though, because with Lance so close to his face he became malleable and ended up with the full gig just like Lance, who even dragged a comb down Keith’s part and restored Keith’s hair to its regular lay, which, argued Lance, while did not look particularly good did also not look like a poor anime wig.

“See?” Lance said when he was done, turning Keith’s head to the mirror. There was only a subtle difference, really, except around the eyes. Were his own lashes that long?

“It’s not like you looked bad before, you just look better now,” Lance added, Keith’s insides twisting a bit pleasantly at the praise. “Photo shoot?”

“Photo shoot.”

“Alright, mullet.”

 

**Day 41**

On a special day all schedules aligned so that the group could all go out surfing, minus Pidge, who wasn’t about that life. Keith, who had been surfing a significant number of times by now, was steadily improving. He wasn’t even the worst one here: that title went to Shiro. By now, the sun was rising, and they’d been out for a good while. The tide pulled the surfers in the water down the shore, so that paddling was required to keep aligned with the beach they started on. Lance and Allura, the best of the group, were separated from Keith and Hunk, grey blobs of motion on the waves. Shiro had headed back to the beach, as had Coran a while later, but Keith could see them both still sitting in the sands.

After catching a wave that brought them nearly back to land, Hunk paddled in, and Keith followed, figuring it was just about time for work anyway.

“Man, I’m tired,” Hunk said to Keith when they were both in the shallows in thigh-deep water. “Maybe if Lance and Allura come in early we can go get coffee or something.”

“They probably won’t,” Keith responded, beaching his board on the sand just outside the tide’s reach, then sitting back down where the waves could wash up onto his lap.

“Yeah, I know,” Hunk acknowledged, sitting pretzel facing Keith and perpendicular to the ocean. “How ya doin’ today, Keith?”

“Good enough,” said Keith. “‘M kinda tired too.”

“Waking up at five to go surfing does that to you,” Hunk agreed. “That’s why Pidge doesn’t do it.”

“Think she’s still tryna pass Paladin Quest?”

“Oh, definitely. She got all the way up to Lotor’s introduction, though,” said Hunk.  

“The prince guy? I don’t know how caught up I am on Paladin Quest lore.”

“Yeah, him.”

“Question,” Keith asked. “Was the storyline from the game made up by Allura’s dad or the game developers?”

“A little bit of both, I think. Allura’s dad made all these comics when he first made the game, but he was a terrible illustrator, so they never really took off. He couldn’t even color in the lines,” contested Hunk. “But he had a lot of passion, and created a lot of things about the universe that you can’t fit into a retro pixel game like you can a modern one. I think they probably looked at the comics and used that as a guideline.”

“That’s cool. It’s a little weird how well we resemble the paladins.”

“It sure is, buddy.” Hunk said. “I don’t have an answer for you on that one. Obviously, the princess is a bit like Allura, but I can’t explain why you and Red both have the same haircut.”

Keith reached up to touch his hair. “Hunk, you don’t think it’s a mullet, do you?”

“Nah, it’s not a mullet. A mullet would be shorter up front.”

“Thank you. Lance always says it’s a mullet,” grumped Keith.

“Aw, he’s just out to get you.”

“By insulting my hair, though?”

“He probably likes it and is just saying that because he has a crush on you,” Hunk said, before _realizing_ what he’d said and blushing profusely. “Oh, shit, I just broke the bro code.”

“He.. What?” Said Keith.

“I gotta go, man.” Hunk got up.

“I gotta go too,” Keith agreed, and they each started running in opposite directions, Hunk down the beach towards where Lance and Allura were exiting the water and Keith towards Shiro.

“We gotta go, we gotta go,” Keith shouted towards Shiro, feeling his face heat up as he looked back and saw Lance’s eyes slide from Hunk to Keith’s absconding form, mouth shaped like an ‘o’.

“Keith! What the heck?” Shiro yelled as Keith grabbed the car keys from Shiro’s backpack and booked it up the stairs. Shiro bid a hasty goodbye to Coran, then followed Keith’s lead, yelling the whole time.

“Not in the wetsuit, Keith! Why are we leaving?”

“We’re leaving,” Keith said.

“And going where?”

“Home, home, home.”

“You’ve got work today!”

“We’re going!” Keith unlocked the car.

“Okay! At least put down a towel, jesus,” Shiro conceded, getting in the passenger side.

They made it back to the condo, and both changed out of their wetsuits. Shiro texted Allura to make sure she made it to the shop fine, and then Keith told him what had happened.

Shiro laughed, then tried to fix him with a brother stare, then laughed again, and after this cycle went on for a while he finally steeled himself to incredulously say, “And you just left?!”

“Uh, yeah, I panicked.”

“Are you done panicking and ready to go talk to him?”

“I don’t see why I have to!” Keith threw his arms up in the air.

Around noon Matt came to their condo to visit with Shiro, and Pidge came along to mock Keith and they somehow all end up talking about Keith’s crisis, which, may he point out, is _very rude._

“I don’t see your problem,” Pidge said, sitting on Keith’s couch. “You like him back, right?”

“He does!” Shiro chimed in from the table, while Keith blushed again.

“So? No problem,” Pidge concluded. “Just get married.”

“Pidge, we live on opposite sides of the country, and I don’t want some sort of summer fling,” Keith said sharply.

“I guess that’s more of a problem,” Shiro said, while Matt looked thoughtful. “Especially since you’re only here for two more weeks.”

“Shit, two weeks?” Pidge looked shocked. “I kinda forgot you didn’t live here.”

“I don’t,” said Keith. “And this has been a really good summer for me. I don’t want the last two weeks to be awkward. Can’t we just let this blow over?”

“I dunno,” frowned Pidge. “I don’t know exactly how to say it, but Lance, he’s- well, he at least deserves to know you like him back.”

“What’ll happen then, huh?” Keith demanded, flopping backwards on the loveseat’s pillows. “If I say don’t want a relationship he’ll think I was lying about liking him.”

“He probably would,” agreed Shiro, unhelpfully.

“I guess you won’t know until you talk to him,” Pidge said. “Dude. Just say you like him back but you’re not a long distance person. At least it’ll stop his moping.”

“And get him to forgive Hunk,” Shiro added.

“Aw, he knows it’s his own fault for telling Hunk. Hunk spills every secret,” Pidge countered. “But yeah, it’d be best for everyone to clear the air.”

“Honesty,” Matt contributed, making a rainbow motion with his arms. 

“Gay,” mimicked Pidge, copying the arc.

 “Okay,” Keith said. “I just need some time to think about it.”

“Alright,” his brother said, sipping coffee. “We’ll be right here.”

“Not me,” Pidge said. “I’m probably _way_ over my lunch break.”

“You’ve been on your lunch break this whole time?” exclaimed Shiro. “You’ve been here for two hours!”

“Keith, can you drive me back to the boardwalk? My shift’s at Altea today.” Pleaded Pidge, hands clasped towards Keith, who got up off the loveseat with a sigh. 

“Shiro, keys?”

“In the dish. Drive safe,” Shiro answered.

“See ya later, sib,” Matt said to Pidge.

Keith drove Pidge to the boardwalk, and paid five dollars to park in one of the general lots when they were dropped off, to avoid Altea and Lance. He ended up right in front of the Balmera, so he went in. Keith hadn’t been to this place in the middle of the day since his first day here, and he almost forgot how the prisms in the windows reflected the sun at its peak.

“Keith!” Shay greeted from behind the register. “What can I get you?”

“Hey, Shay,” Keith said, and walked up to examine the flavors in the glass display case before letting his eyes wander to the flavor board. “Double brownie fudge?”

“Coming right up,” she said, before disappearing into the backroom, leaving Keith all alone in the shop, an oddity for the middle of the day. He moved to the wall, by the pick up counter, and spun a prism, altering the rainbow reflections on the wall.

“Here you go,” Shay reemerges with the cone, and rings him up. “You gonna eat here?”

“Yeah, don’t mind me if I’m just silently staring at your wall,” Keith laughed awkwardly.

“All good?” Shay asked, sounding concerned.

Keith hesitated. “Yeah- Yeah, I’m _great._ ”

“Alright then,” she laughed, then the bell rang, signifying more customers, and she said, “Enjoy the cone, Keith,” before leaving him to his own devices.

He sat down at a small green glass corner table and pulled out his phone while eating the ice cream slowly.

Beneath all the anxiety and the shock of it all slowly wearing off, Keith did, actually, feel pretty good, he realized.

And why wouldn’t he? Lance liked him back.

Keith wasn’t _shocked,_ per say, just pleasantly surprised. It sent him to a higher realm where little miracles like your crush liking you back existed, but then right back to the real world when he reminded himself that nothing could ever come of it. He’d never get to hold Lance’s hand or see what kissing him felt like because of time and circumstance, not unrequited feelings. And damn, Keith thought this might be worse, because he hadn’t planned to do anything about his burning crush, but now- now it would be so easy. Just a few words and he _could,_ he could see what it would be like to be with that beautiful boy, with his friend who playfully made fun of him and taught him how to surf.

All these feelings washed over him and almost made him forget about the conversation he would have to have later.

Twenty minutes after he finished his ice cream cone and the Balmera was starting to crowd, so Keith got up and left. Shay was his friend, but he didn’t want to loiter.

Standing outside the shop, Keith’s heart pulled him towards Voltron and Lance but his feet firmly towards his car, so he steeled himself and whispered under his breath behind the wheel, “Tomorrow. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

 

**Day 42**

Keith was about as prepared as he could get, and he didn’t have to work too hard to find Lance because Lance found him right away, giving him meaningful glances from across the room. Keith’s prize counter was too swamped for him to reasonably approach Keith and hope to have any sort of important conversation, so they kept making resigned eye contact until Shiro finally intervened, slid behind the prize counter himself, and told Lance and Keith to take a break.

They went to sit on the back stoop, which was facing the back of more buildings and the parking lots but was sunny and bright. Lance shrugged off the army green jacket that was part of his casual uniform.

“So, uh, sorry about that,” Lance started, looking awkward. “I don’t wanna make things awkward, you know?”

“It’s fine.” Keith rubbed the back of his neck. “I like you too.”

“Wait, seriously?” Lance sounded shocked, and frowned slightly, his mouth opening and closing a few times like he didn’t know quite what to say. “You’re not pulling my leg?”

“No,” said Keith. “It’s really that hard to believe I’d like you too?”

“I guess I never thought… Yeah, never crossed my mind. That’s… Cool. Super cool.”

They both sat facing forward for an uncomfortable few seconds. Keith fiddled with his thumbs and wondered if Lance was going to say anything.

“So… What now?” Lance wondered, still not looking Keith in the eye.

“Nothing,” Keith said.

“Keith, that’s not what happens when people like each other,” Lance finally raised his gaze to Keith’s.

“I just can’t,” Keith said. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I can’t do a summer fling.”

“It wouldn’t be…” Lance frowned as he trailed off. “I guess I can’t promise that.”

“Yeah,” agreed Keith. “I’m leaving on the twenty-ninth.”

“Oh, wow,” said Lance. “That’s… Soon.”

“Stuff to do before college, you know.” Keith broke eye contact to distractedly eye the weeds pushing up through cracks in the concrete.

“I get it.”

“You’re okay… With us? We’re good now?”

“Yep,” nodded Lance. “Honestly, I got more than I’d bargained for out of this conversation in the first place.”

“We should probably head back in.”

“Yeah.”

 

**Day 45**

It was not all good now. Not to say the conversation hadn’t gone as well, because it had, it’s just that now that Keith wasn’t worried about the state of his and Lance’s friendship, his mind was spinning like a broken record with thoughts of reciprocated feelings and fantasy daydreams where Keith didn’t have to leave and summer lasted forever.

Also, the flirting.

They weren’t fucking flirting- they weren’t. Friends compliment each other, right? If Lance’s new shirt looked good, Keith could tell him so, right? It wasn’t like he had to worry about it being taken the wrong was because Lance _knew_ Keith thought he was hot. 

“Ass looks great today, Keith,” Lance said. “No homo though.”

“If I unironically hear the phrase no homo again, I’m suing,” Pidge complained.

“These are my normal jeans?” Keith questioned while looking over his shoulder, suddenly insecure about his butt.

“Not that I was looking at your butt or anything,” Lance backtracked. “But if I had been, I’m sure I would’ve observed it looked great. In a non-homosexual way.”

“Oh my god,” sighed Pidge. “Hunk, back me up here.”

“I would, but since it’s at least partially my fault this is happening, I’d feel a little wrong doing so.” Hunk sipped from a capri sun.

Lance’s phone was plugged into a wall outlet at their local mall, where they’d gone in the evening to hang out. They were all sitting or standing in a corner between the J.C Penney and the restroom like a true teenage mall experience. So far they’d popped into a few stores and bought some candy, spread out in plastic grab bags in the center of their circle.  

Keith was scrolling through the online mall directory. “Can we go to hot topic?”

“No,” Lance said immediately, at the same time Pidge said, “Yes.”

“This is gonna be a problem,” Lance observed after a second. “Hunk, vote no with me.”

“You don’t have to come,” Pidge started grinning. “Yes, the buddy system would still be in place now that there are four of us.”

“You guys follow the buddy system?” Keith questioned. “What are y’all, twelve?”

“The buddy system is for all ages, _Keith,”_ chastised Lance, standing up to pull playfully on Keith’s earlobe.

“Lance!” He protested.

“Allow me to point out that you want to go into the cringiest store ever created by man, a store for budding middle school emos. You’re the twelve-year-old. The buddy system is a clever, effective method for staying safe in dangerous public places,” said Lance.

“Because there’s no place more dangerous than the Northdale Center,” Keith deadpanned, gesturing to the empty mall.

“Come on, Keith,” Pidge grabbed his hand. “Let’s go. It would be good for you to take a break from Lance anyway and relieve the sexual tension.”

“We do not have sexual tension,” Keith complained as Pidge dragged him away.

Hot Topic was a severe black in contradistinction to the rest of the mall, largely white and Forever 21, Urban Outfitters.

“This place was my whole middle school experience,” Keith said.

The employee, a tall girl whose nametag read Fiona, waved them in.

“Is it just me, or is the stuff in here getting even edgier?” Pidge asked, looking up at the selection of t-shirts.

Keith eyed a familiar one, ‘I’m not anti-social, I just don’t like you’, it said. It had been around for a while, probably because it sold. Middle school Keith would’ve worn it for sure, and probably used _anti-social_ to describe himself instead of the less problematic and more accurate _introverted._ “It’s possible we’re getting less edgy,” he eventually told Pidge.

They were crouched over by the Pop Figures, which always looked like Satan’s little minions to Keith, but hey, fandom merch?

After passing probably a half hour in the store, Pidge found some steampunk necklaces to buy and Keith got a cat pin because it was funny and they were on sale, which made it necessary to buy at least one.

 “Lance and Hunk are in the food court,” Pidge said as they walked out, looking down at their phone. 

“Great,” said Keith. “Let’s go catch up with them.”

They’d all eaten at Panera earlier, but the restaurant was on the outskirts of the mall, unlike the centered food court.

“Holy shit,” Keith said as they approached. “Is that a carousel?”

“Hell yeah,” said Pidge. “Probably what Lance’s been doin’... Spinning around in circles on that goddamn twisty thing. You know, that car that you can spin around in so you’re circling two different ways? He loves that, but  Hunk would never, he’d barf so fast.”

“Hurry up, dude.” Keith pulled their arm. “Gotta be where the action is.”

Hunk was sitting on one of the food court tables, eating some cheap candy, and Pidge saddled up next to them. “Done carouselling?”

“That thing’s three bucks a pop, Pidge,” Hunk answered. “I figured I’d wait for you and Keith and let Lance work out hit energy with the unholy spinning contraption.”

A bell rang, signifying the end of the carousel cycle, and all three of them got up to buy tokens. Lance came stumbling off, and grabbed onto Keith’s shoulder for purchase.

“Have fun, dude?” Hunk asked.

“Yeah, awesome.” Lance stabilized himself but didn’t remove his hand. “Made some cool friends to spin with.”

He gestured a group  behind them, who were all buying even more tokens as well, a taller girl with wavy brown hair and glasses, a short one wearing an ‘I want to believe’ shirt, and a person with a half-shaved, curly hairstyle.

“Killing it,” Pidge said, and then it was their turn to get on. Hunk and Pidge immediately ran to the upper levels, followed by Keith and Lance, but they chose moving horses.

“Sit with me?” Lance asked when Keith moved to do the same. “I might be sick if I sit on another moving part, but it’s so lame to sit on a bench alone.”

“You’re too dizzy for the moving horses, but not too dizzy for the carousel?” Keith questioned, but still followed Lance to a fancy, padded seat and slid in next to him.

“Ew,” Lance said when the carousel started, looking down at the hot topic bag resting between him and Keith. “Get that away from me.”

“Wha- you asked me to sit with you?”

“Yeah, you, not _that,”_ Lance said, wrinkling his nose like it was literal shit and not a plastic bag with a cat pin in it. “God, I might become emo if that thing makes contact with my skin. I might feel inexplicably compelled to grow a mullet and only wear black skinny jeans.”

“You think my butt looks good in these jeans,” Keith reminded him. “And you like my hair.”

“I like you. That doesn’t mean I have to like your hair,” countered Lance.

“So I should cut it?”

“Hold up, no need to be getting crazy now.”

“You _like_ it,” teased Keith.

“No, I don’t!” The other boy protested. “I’m trying to say, uh- emo! I don’t want to catch the emo!”

“Emo isn’t contagious, Lance!” Keith laughed, and Lance laughed, and Keith started antagonizing him with his _completely_ innocent hot topic bag until they were both playfighting in their bench seat.

“Does that mean I’m contagious too?” Questioned Keith, and impulsively- “What it I just…”- placed his lips on Lance’s cheek, an action not meant to- this.

Lance’s cheeks flushed, highlighting the freckles across the bridge of his nose, and Keith became hyperaware of his position, leaned over into Lance’s personal space, a hand on the other side of his legs and close to that pretty face because of an unaborted kiss.

Their banter stopped and the whole wave of _feelings_ swirling around Keith’s insides again, he whispered a curse word under his breath for the stupid thing he was going to do, that they were both going to do, and then they were kissing and it was good even if Keith’s fantasies never would’ve touched on _this,_ a first kiss on a carousel with a hundred people around them who didn’t know- couldn’t- how much had led up to this and how much Keith- god, he was overwhelmed.

But the most important thing was Lance, whose hand was on his back, drawing Keith closer in, and who kissed Keith firmly like he didn’t know or didn’t care how _impulsive_ they were being, how this wasn’t supposed to happen. Keith, for all he’d done telling himself he wouldn’t, he did, _oh_ he did and he didn’t regret it for a second because they were kissing and kissing more and why hadn’t they done this earlier? 

The best things had to end, of course, and theirs stopped with the shrill chime of the bell and Pidge’s shout of “I _saw_ that!”

“Run,” whispered Lance, grabbing Keith’s wrist and even that _fucking_ hot topic bag before they sped down the stairs and off the carousel and away from their friends for no goddamn reason and Lance only slowed down when they got outside. The heat and brightness hit right away, and Lance’s hand slid down from Keith’s wrist to his hand so their fingers could properly interlock.

“ _Dude,_ ” Hunk said when he and Pidge finally caught up, but that was all on the topic before launching into another conversation on their way back to Blue. It wasn’t what Keith was expecting, and if neither of them were gonna say it then Lance was, apparently, as they trailed behind their friends still holding hands.

“This is gonna hurt,” lamented Lance.   

 

**Day 47**

“Hey, get up.”

Keith groggily opened his eyes. “Huh? ‘id I oversleep?”  

“Nah, I turned off your alarm,” Lance said. “It’s only eight.”

Keith opened his eyes fully and sat up abruptly. “Lance? What’re you doing in my room?”

“I’m kidnapping you,” he explained vaguely, with a sly smile. “Well, consensually, of course.”

"We have work today.”

“Nah, you’re off for the rest of the week. Allura said it was cool.”

“Where are you taking me that’s gonna take the rest of the week?” Keith asked, a little concerned. Lance sat down on Keith’s bed.

“Somewhere,” he answered, just as vague as before. “See, I kinda thought it sucked that you came all the way down here just to be put to work all summer, so I’m taking you on a vacation. A vacation inside of a vacation, if you will. Get up and get dressed, we can eat on the way.”

“Wait, don’t I need to pack? What about Shiro and Allura?”

“I packed for you,”  Lance gestured to a duffel sitting near the door. “Aren’t I the best summer fling ever? And I already told them you’d be gone. They said it was cool as long as we didn’t get up to no ‘funny business’.”

Keith groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Okay, I’m coming. Get out!”

Lance retreated into the main living room, and Keith slid out of bed. Working around the missing clothes in his drawers, he pulled on an old pair of sweatpants and a plain red shirt.

Allura was still sitting at the kitchen counter, not having departed for Altea yet, so Keith had to awkwardly pass her and her smug face on their way out. Lance had no reaction.

Okay, that was fine. Keith hadn’t planned on telling them, but _that was fine._

When he and Lance were settled in Blue they pulled out, and traffic was bad for about the first hour due to rush traffic, but things cleared up as Lance continued driving in an undetermined direction. They stopped after a while for breakfast, as planned, although Lance’s ‘breakfast’ was a McDonald’s off the highway. Lance treated it like fine dining, skipping the drive-thru for a sit down meal and pulling out Keith’s chair. He grumpily ate an egg McMuffin while Lance feasted on a double order of Hot Cakes and a chocolate muffin (“What?” He justified. “I’m hungry”).

“Pacific Highway,” Lance said to a dozing Keith a short while later in their trip, and Keith alerted to see them driving on a road right next to the ocean. It was pretty, and ascertained they were going north, since a lane of cars going the other way separated Keith from the ocean.

It was pretty. Keith saw some windsurfers, some cool rock formations, and they pulled off a few times to see beaches Lance decided to be particularly cool. They saw a seal once too, beached and sunbathing.

Road trips were chill. Keith even got to drive for a stretch, with the instructions from Lance to just keep going north.

“Do you even have a destination?” Keith questioned doubtfully from behind the wheel.

Lance was eating Haribo gummy cherries in the passenger seat, and occasionally feeding them to Keith, too. “You bet your sweet ass I do,” he answered without hesitation, and Keith kept driving forward.

They switched off again pretty quickly, mostly at Lance’s urging, since he insisted Keith’s music was ruining their vibe, and everyone knew driver got aux. Lance’s music, Keith conceded, was not as annoying to him as it could be, since he knew Lance’s tastes. The playlist he had on had songs that weren’t either of their favorites, but recognizable childhood pop bops that were hard to criticize. It was sweet.

“Can we get an actual lunch?” Keith asked around one, after their breakfast, two gas station junk food stops, and ice cream on one of the small beaches. His body was craving a vegetable.

Lance agreed and treated him to a ‘romantic’ Olive Garden lunch date which consisted mostly of Keith shoving his face with their salad and Lance making jokes about the breadsticks (which Keith _did_ understand, contrary to what Lance might say, he just refused to acknowledge them as funny).

Afterwards they drove about ten minutes in the same town to another beach, spread out a picnic blanket on a bluff overlooking the ocean, and made out for a little, and it was probably one of Keith’s favorite experiences of the summer so far. They’d kissed a lot since their first, and it was just as great. Keith had kissed people before, but it was never on a picturesque hillside on the coastline. Honestly, a lot of Keith’s other experiences had been rushed and quick and in dirty corners and all felt a little guilty because of high school or homophobia or whatnot, but with Lance it was relaxed and easy. Lance’s hands were nice, good, holding him up and drawing him closer in by the back of his neck, tugging lightly at the strands of hair that reached. Their mouths moved harmoniously. It was slightly windy out. One for the memories.

By nighttime, they’d finally reached their destination. It was far enough away that it’d taken a full day of travel, but they hadn’t exactly been in a hurry with all their stops.

“Lance, there’s a Hilton right across the street and you got us a shitty motel?” Keith questioned as Lance pulled into the parking lot of a one story wrap around building with a ‘Motel: vacancy’ neon sign and chipping paint.

“Hell yeah I did,” Lance said. “Shitty motels are fun. Unless they’re too shitty. In which case we can absolutely move to the Hilton tomorrow. Bedbugs are where I draw the line.”

“Reassuring.”

“Have I been wrong about anything yet, babe?” Lance slung his arms around Keith’s shoulder and pulled him in. Keith’s head his his shoulder, blushing from the pet name, but he smiled softly.

“I don’t know, we’ll have to wait and see if your identity gets stolen from the card reader at that one gas station,” he couldn’t help but tease and lean even closer to Lance, relishing in the warmth and the feel of their bodies pressed together.

“Keith!” Lance squeaked. “Don’t rub it in, I’m scared about that too. What would I tell my mama?”

“I’m kidding,” reassured Keith. “I’ve had a great time so far. Thank you.”

Lance was smiling and thrown off his typical vibe (flustered?), but he recovered quickly and let Keith go. “Yes, I’m perfect, I know. Get your bags so we can go shitty motel-ing.”

“Let’s do it,” Keith agreed, feeling too fond to banter.

 -----

The lobby was equally shitty as the outside, but the rooms were pretty nice. A little scratched up, but everything was clean and all the bedding was fresh. It passed Lance’s inspection. The little loser even pulled back the top sheet to test for bedbugs on the mattress, and knew how to do so without a google search, a testament to his loserness that he didn’t appreciate being called out on.

Keith ordered room service milk and cookies and put in on Lance’s tab, which he was also not happy about but accepted without question because it was a date and Lance was paying for everything.

“This is a really fucking extra date,” commented Keith at Lance’s phrasing. “Do you do this for everyone?”

“Course I do,” lied Lance. “I’m made of money.”

“Lance, we work the same job, so I know you’re lying.”

“Yeah, it’s just for you,” he admitted when called out, looking adorable shy and sheepish about it, so Keith climbed onto the bed Lance had claimed and used Lance’s chest as a pillow.

They watched HGTV (the true vacation experience) until Keith’s cookies came and then he had a tickle fight with Lance over the last one.

“You too exhausted for more adventures? There’s a cool bowling alley still open,” Lance asked, looking down at his phone.

“Sorry, but I think I am,” Keith said. “We’ve been going all day.”

They took turns in the bathroom, both showering at Lance’s insistence. Lance also insisted he be first, which Keith allowed until it was his turn and the hottest setting was room temperature and all the hot water was gone, which the scheming weasel had probably planned for.

“I don’t know why I’m attracted to you!” Keith shouted as he shampooed his hair, feeling the water grow colder at an alarming rate. Even over the shower water and through the closed door Keith could hear a muffled laughter.

Once they were both back in pajamas they watched Fixer Upper until Keith could feel his eyes drooping and he begged Lance to turn off the television.

“Keith? You still awake?” Lance whispered, almost hesitantly, after a few minutes of darkness.

Keith was smushed so far into his pillow he almost didn’t hear it, and he was trying damn hard not to be, but he still answered. “Yes.”

“Do you want to… Sleep with me?” Came the response from the other side of the room, and Keith startled.

“Excuse me?”

“Not like that,” backtracked Lance, covering up his mistake with a nervous chuckle. “I mean, do you wanna sleep in the same bed as me?”

 _Oh._ Like cuddling. He hadn’t even thought about it.

“You don’t have to if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”

None of Keith’s past partners would’ve wanted to. Although, none of Keith’s past partners were Lance.

“Aw, forget it?”

Did Keith want to? Hell yes, he wanted to.

“Move over,” he grumbled as he swung out of bed and tucked himself under the covers on Lance’s bed, shifting as close to the other boy as his position allowed. Keith couldn’t see well in the darkness, but Lance seemed pleasantly surprised and happy if the humming noise in the back of his throat as he extended his arms for Keith was anything to go by.

They stay in an embrace for only a couple more minutes until Keith snapped out of his lovestruck haze and realized he was never going to be able to fall asleep with Lance’s arms between him and the mattress, so he turned around and pressed his back to Lance’s chest. Lance’s arm wrapped around his middle just like Keith had hoped it would. Keith fell asleep quickly, and happy, too.

 

**Day 48**

Whatever Lance had planned for the day didn’t involve waking up early. Keith slept in, and woke up on his own, before the boy he slept with as well. Waking up with Lance’s arm tight around his waist and their legs entangled in a shitty motel room was almost surreal. The curtains had never been pulled shut, so sunlight streamed into the room. Keith’s bed was mussed up but never slept in, Lance was waking up and nuzzling into Keith’s neck and the digital clock on the nightstand read ten-thirty-seven.

“Lance, get up.”

“Why?” Was his sleepily murmured response, mouth pressing against the bare skin on Keith’s nape.

“It’s almost eleven.”

“So?”

“I’m hungry,” Keith groaned, sitting up. Lance tried to discourage him by tightening his grip, but Keith pulled away and slid out of bed, leaving Lance to complain and dramatically extend his arms towards Keith. “And I’m ready to see what you have planned for the day.”

He leaned back over to lay a kiss on Lance’s forehead after. Lance reacted by twisting to bury his head in the pillow. “Consider me charmed.”

Keith scrolled through his phone until Lance was up, and both of them got dressed. Lance dressed them both in normal summer attire and running shoes, and then they left for breakfast, since the motel didn’t have a buffet. There was a cute homestyle place just down the road that they ate at before hitting up a Walmart for food to pack lunches and a fuckton of bug spray, which made Keith nervous.

The drive to Lance’s place was mysterious. They were going inland, which Keith wouldn’t have guessed, and away from any main highways, through forests and on narrow, winding roads.

“Are we in a national park?” Keith asked, squinting at the familiar-style wooden signs they pass.

“State park,” Lance replied. “I’m gonna take you to see some big trees.”

 “The big trees?” Keith was intrigued. “What are those called again?”

Lance opened his mouth then shut it again. “I can’t believe I’m fucking forgetting, but I’m sure we’ll see it on a sign somewhere. We should be getting pretty close.”

They reached the tollhouse, and Lance handed a twenty in cash to the ranger in the window, who waved them on.

“I got a few maps,” Lance informed him. “Hope you like hiking.”

Keith, in fact, did not like hiking very much, or was at least neutral on the subject, but he didn’t think in this moment anything with Lance could be bad.

They parked a couple miles up in a nearly-empty parking lot. The only thing there was a small log cabin visitor center. The trees were looking pretty big. Maybe not as big as Keith had imagined giant trees would be, but big.

“Small state parks are better than the big ones this time of year,” Lance told Keith as he exited the car. “At least, in my opinion.”

“I’ll trust your opinion,” said Keith, migrating over to the center and one of their colorful, informative signs. Next to it was a preserved, glazed cross-section of a huge tree, rings fully on display.

“Redwoods,” Keith commented.

“Doesn’t look too red to me,” Lance said, “But yeah, that’s right. You got all your stuff?”

Keith hoisted up the backpack Lance’d packed for him and smiled. “Let’s go.”

The path they hiked down was worn from use, and they passed wooden signs indicating the right direction until they found the trailhead and started. They kept pointing out trees, seeing who could find the biggest one.

According to Lance, who had the pamphlet, the trail they were taking was only four miles round trip, and it would take them past some particularly nice trees and a waterfall. Also according to Lance, who had the pamphlet and was reading the back, there was a thing called a banana slug that lived around here.

“Let’s find a banana slug,” said Lance.

“Or maybe not?”

“You’re no fun. We’re finding a banana slug.”

“How can you, the same person so freaked out about bedbugs, want to interact with a slug?” Keith wondered.

“I never said I was _touching_ the slug,” clarified Lance. “Just that I want to find one.”

“How do you even know what a banana slug looks like?”

“Well, damn, I imagine it’s just a yellow slug, Keith.”

“Tell me when you find your gross bug,” Keith sighed.

It wasn’t too hot under the trees, and most of the trail was in the shade, but that also meant there were more bugs, so they stopped to apply bugspray and drink water a couple times.

“Big ass tree,” Lance would point out, and take a picture of Keith trying to wrap his arms around it. When the light shone through the leaves just right, he’d stop them for even more pictures.

“Cute,” he said, scrolling through them and showing Keith his favorites while they stopped and sat on a trunk for a drink. They were cute- Lance holding the camera with Keith peeking over his shoulder, giving a sly smile, a five second video clip of Keith hugging a tree with Lance’s laughter in the background, a goofy one of Keith off guard. Keith didn’t take a lot of photos.

“Send me those later,” Keith said, suddenly wishing he’d taken more pictures of this summer to remember, because soon he’d be in college and wouldn’t get to see his friends every day. Maybe they wouldn’t even call him. What if he started to forget what they looked like?

“Dude, you’re look like you’re gettin’ all emo on me. What’s up?” Lance slid over to Keith’s side and saddled him with a questioning look.

“I’m not emo. Also, I’m leaving soon,” Keith responded, knowing Lance would get it. “I don’t wanna talk or think about it right now.”

“Gotcha. I’m really gonna miss you when you go, you know,” Lance said, wrapping his arms around Keith and dipping his head onto his shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss you too.”

“You know what will make you less emo? Looking for banana slugs.”

“Fuck you,” said Keith without any malice, pushing Lance off of him. “You’re not gonna find that slug.”

“Damn, that’s cold.” They continued walking as Lance talked. “You’re not supposed to crush my dreams like this, sweetheart.”

“I’m just being realistic!”

 ----

They found the river soon. It was more of a stream than a river, but was a decent distance to cross. It was surprisingly clear, and the bottom was sand and pebbles, seeming to be only thigh deep the whole way across. What they didn’t find, however, was the bridge.

"Alright, what gives?” Keith wondered aloud, looking at the point where the trail clearly ended and then picked up on the other side without any means of crossing.

“Well, the map says there’s supposed to be a bridge here, so it’s not _my_ fault,” Lance clarified, twisting the pamphlet.

In the end, they waded across, and followed the trail to the halfway point, which was the waterfall. Lance took even more pictures, then they ate lunch, which was a little nasty from being in their hot bags the whole time, but still tasty because they were both so hungry.

They video called Pidge (and Shiro, by proxy), who were at work, and chatted about their trip until Coran caught them slacking. Keith got water dumped over his head as he made a joke poking fun at Lance that would later escalate to a full out water fight when the call was disconnected.

On the back half of the trail, there was a bride, but Keith got tricked into taking off his backpack only to be shoved in the water by Lance. After he got his revenge and they were both sopping wet, they sat in the sun on the metal bridge for a while to dry off a little before continuing on the back.

“Hug that tree!” Lance demanded. It was a good one, huge and majestic with beams of fading daylight spilling around it for a good picture, so Keith dropped his bag and went off trail to pose by the tree. He wasn’t sure how he noticed it, since it blended into the foliage, but he leaned down to check.

A slug. He briefly contemplated not telling Lance, but nah, he couldn’t do that.

“Hey asshole, found one of your gross creepies,” Keith called, and heard Lance gasp in excitement and scramble up to where Keith was.

“A banana slug!” He exclaimed. “Told you we’d find one!”

“ _I_ found one,” Keith corrected.

 "You’d going into technicalities because you’re mad that I was right and you were wrong,” said Lance smugly and he was right.

Lance picked the poor thing up with a stick and had Keith hold it for more pictures. It was very yellow, with hints of brown, and creepy eyes. The guy was probably just chillin’ and now there were two giants in its face, one with a flashy thing.

“This is going on Instagram!” Lance decided excitedly when they finally left that slug alone.

“Lance, no,” chastised Keith. “You really want your followers to see a gross, slimy bug?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, and held his phone out for Keith to take. The picture on screen didn’t focus on the slug, it focused on Keith, holding the slug disgustingly close to his pouty face. It was a nice shot, the lighting and angles were nice and stuff.

“This is cute but it makes me look like I want to be holding that thing.” Keith eventually criticized.

“Still posting it.”

“Come on, Lance, at least post it in a multi-picture and have the first one be a nice one!”

 Lance agreed to the compromise and Keith picked out his favorite pictures to send to himself while they drove back to the motel.

They ordered pizza for dinner. Keith tried to thank Lance for all the fun they’d had, but Lance insisted they weren’t quite done, and there was no way out of it, unlike last night.

“We just gotta wait,” Lance alluded, then checked his phone’s clock: “Two more hours.”

“Two more hours?” Questioned Keith. “What are we gonna do at… Eleven thirty at night?”

“Well, you’re not _supposed_ to do it at eleven thirty at night.”

“I’m down,” Keith replied immediately.

“That easy? Great!”

The thing turned out to be breaking into the motel pool, which closed at ten and had a tall wooden fence surrounding it. It was off the lobby, and even though it wasn’t really visible from anywhere due to the fence, Lance waited until eleven thirty for the lobby to close to avoid suspicion, then he and Keith left the room to do some late night swimming. 

They were both good at hopping fences, the evidence proved, and got over with no injuries other than scrapes against the wood.

The pool was just as shitty as the motel, a boring rectangle or concrete and minimalistic tiling, with a sad beach ball floating in the corner and some saggy, tired chairs on the deck around it. The lobby, and therefore the pool, faced the highway and assorted neon signs for businesses, leaving plenty of light for them to see by. The night itself was nice, too. The sky was clear, even if few stars were visible due to light pollution. The temperature was good, summer warm but not hot, the bugs gone for the night.

Lance cannonballed in without any preamble and came up to the surface spluttering, “That’s cold!”

Keith smiled and sat down at the edge, dipping just his toes in. “You’re being a baby.”

“Who’s the one in the pool? You? Didn’t think so!” Refuted Lance.

“I’ll get in on my own time.”

“Get it now!”

“Make me,” tempted Keith, so Lance splashed him angrily. “Shit, that is cold.”

“You don’t deserve one, but you can’t just say ‘make me’ without being kissed, so you gonna come in here and collect your prize?” Lance drifted towards the middle of the pool, seemingly spitefully.

Keith slid in the pool and did a small double bounce when his feet hit the bottom, prepared for everything but the chilly water hitting his midsection, and bounced further towards Lance, who was smiling again. “You make a compelling argument.”

The kiss was short and sweet and tasted unabashedly like chlorine. They broke apart fairly quickly but didn’t immediately demand more because there would be time later and motel pools were for shenanigans and not makeouts. They twirled a little, Lance did some water aerobics, Keith said he was gonna do a backflip off into the deep end and even made it as far as getting out and getting into position but chickened out every time after the windup. Eventually they just ended up on the stairs sitting half submerged and looking at the sky. Someone was loudly playing music from one the other motel rooms, and when trucks weren’t passing on the interstate Kill ‘Em With The Love backgrounded the atmosphere.

“How long until you leave again?” Lance eventually asked.

“Eight days. A week,” Keith answered quickly because he’d been counting down the days himself and dreading his summer ending.

“At least it’s not on my birthday,” Lance sighed. “It sucks you’ve gotta go. I mean, I’ve gotta go too.”

“You wish we had more time.”

“Yep.”

“Me too.”

Silence.

“It’s not like we’re gonna stop being friends, right?” Keith asked because he needed the confirmation to not feel as alone on his side of the country.

“Of course! I’ll call you every week!” Lance said like he was offended Keith even bothered to ask, which… Made him feel a lot better.

“Good friends?” Keith smiled slyly.

“Well, now I just can’t let you beat me. We’ll be _best friends,_ ” Lance assured.

“Hunk’s your best friend,” pointed out Keith.

“I can have multiple best friends! But you’re right, Hunk’ll always be the main bro.”

After a couple minutes the water was starting to chill and Keith was on the edge of brooding, so he thought on what he didn’t know about Lance and what he wanted to ask when he was here to learn more in person because it was never the same over skype, just enough substance to keep a dying man alive.

“What are you studying in college and how’d you choose it?” Keith eventually asked.

“Marine biology,” Lance answered. “When I was a kid I’d always wanted to be an astronaut.”

“Really? Me too,” Keith grinned.

“Yeah! Space is so cool!” Lance looked equally as excited, then drooped a bit. “I guess I just eventually realized that I wasn’t born in the right time to explore the universe. It’s 2017, we haven’t even made it to Mars, Keith. Oh, and also, I wanted to be a pilot astronaut, and you need 20/20 vision for that, and I don’t have that either.”

“Maybe in another life.”

“Oh, I hope so. We can pilot spaceships together and meet aliens.” Lance tilted his head up skywards.

“Marine biology?” Eventually continued Keith.

“Yeah! If I can’t explore space I can at least explore our oceans. I’m out to find the underwater banana slug fish.”

“That banana slug ruined my life,” lamented Keith.

“So what’re you gonna do?”

“...I’m gonna be a lawyer,” Keith confessed hesitantly. “It’s what my parents want.”

“It’s not what I would expect from you,” Lance admitted. “You don’t sound so happy about it. You don’t have to do what your parents want?”

“I know it sounds like they’re bad parents, but they’re not. Shiro and I are both adopted, and they raised us great. They just want us to be successful,” Keith shrugged. “I’m gonna give law school a try. If it doesn’t work out, I can just do something else.”

“But if you know it’s not gonna make you happy…”

“I thought coming to California this summer was just gonna make me miserable, but I had the best summer of my life,” he pointed out. “Maybe law school will be like that.”

“Law school will hopefully not be like that.”

“Hopefully?” 

“Well, yeah, then I’d need to fight off law school Lance, _Keith._ Ever heard of defending your bae?” answered Lance, which made Keith laugh.

“I know,” he sobered up. “But I’m gonna try it. And if it doesn’t work, I can always do something else.”

“Nice,” nodded Lance. “Like Shiro did, except with trying it first.”

“To be fair, Shiro had a very good reason for not trying it first,” Keith said. “Our parents wanted _him_ to be a doctor.”

“Yikes. I bet he wanted nothing to do with hospitals at all after his accident.”

“Still wants nothing to do with them. It’s not like I’ve had any traumatic experiences with courthouses,” Keith acknowledges. “I was upset when Shiro ran away, but he had his reasons, and I’m happy with the way things turned out now.”

“Happy little Keith is a good Keith,” Lance said and tried to hug him.

“This pool is gross. Let’s get out and try again later,” Keith squirmed away.

“Alright. Let’s end our awesome vacation squared with more HGTV and snuggles.”

 

**Day 56**

The remaining few days and the rest of the summer went by far, far, far too fast. It was repeating every good memory Keith had from the summer and making more. Riding the FlowRider again,and being certainly better and certainly able to kiss the cute instructor at the end. Finally getting a good Paladin Quest ending with Pidge. Going to the Balmera with Shiro and Allura. Spending time with his brother. Being dragged by Lance to a double date with Shay and Hunk, and next a triple date with Shiro and Allura as well. Going to Voltron and playing the games without being an employee. Longboarding down to Altea. Lance’s birthday, celebrated with mini-golf and a little bit of Coran-supervised underage drinking. The good stuff.     

Before he knew it, his stuff was all packed and his flight back home left in two hours. The condo was busy all morning with his sad friends hanging out, unable to pretend anymore it wasn’t the last time for a while.

They exchanged meticulous contact information. Phone numbers, most of which he had already, addresses for birthday presents, skype names, whatever they could think of to communicate. Lance and Allura tag teamed him to get a Snapchat. The winning argument eventually came from Lance (“Wouldn’t you like to see my pretty face at random intervals throughout your day, everyday?”) and he gave in and downloaded the app. Pidge and Coran gifted him a copy of Paladin Quest since he couldn’t use Pidge’s anymore. Hunk gave him cookies for the trip and a blessing of a hug that became a group hug pile.

By the time Shiro announced that Keith definitely had to go or he’d miss his flight most of everyone was a little teary eyed. He grabbed the handle on his last suitcase not loaded into the car already and followed Shiro out of the condo that’d been his home for the last two months with everyone else trailing behind.

“Thanks for coming this summer, Keith,” Shiro said, and gave him a tight hug before getting in the car and letting everyone else have their turn because he’d get more time at the airport. Keith was passed around like a kitten for full-body hugs and squeezes and a kiss on the lips from Lance before sliding into the passenger seat of the van with damp cheeks.

“I’m guessing you decided not to break up with Lance?” Shiro teased.

Keith shook his head. “We’re staying together for now.”

“Thought you would,” nodded Shiro. “Don’t worry, I think it’ll work out. Distance has nothing on this little family, who’re all really gonna miss you.”

Outside on the sidewalk everyone was waving, and Keith really, really wanted his brother to be right.

“I’ll miss them too,” Keith said, and rolled down the window as Shiro started to drive away.

“Thank you!” He shouted through the wind. “See you next summer!”

                                                                                                                                                                  

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
